


Blind Stars of Fortune

by fleurdeliser, tuesdaysgone



Category: Comics Industry RPF, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, F/M, IN SPACE!, M/M, Space Opera, Spaceships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 04:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2255145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurdeliser/pseuds/fleurdeliser, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaysgone/pseuds/tuesdaysgone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew of the Mercury rescues Frank and Lindsey from an escape pod. Space adventures ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blind Stars of Fortune

**Author's Note:**

> Our thanks to tabulaxrasa for the beta notes! Apologies to Robert Plant for the title grab.

Every single warning alarm in the whole fucking ship is going off. Lindsey is passed out, there's a ship coming at them way too fucking fast, probably intent on whatever the fuck is in their cargo hold, and Frank is pretty sure his only fucking option at this point is pulling Lindsey into the escape hatch with him and hitting eject. Frank can't pilot a ship with no nav systems, he has next to no medical training, and, most importantly, he doesn't want to fucking burn to death. Lindsey will just have to fucking forgive him.

"I'm really fucking sorry about this," he says and lifts her over his shoulder. He knows he jostles her leg, which is very obviously broken. He's glad she's passed out. He gets them through the hatch into the escape pod, taps in the code to seal them in and when the display indicates it's safe, he takes a deep breath and repeats the code.

There's a short countdown and then they're launched away from the ship with a loud rumble. The pod has its own comms, but a fairly rudimentary nav system - more Frank's speed, truthfully. He pilots them away from the Kraken and sets course for the closest system.  
A brief inspection - and his memory of Lindsey's cursory intro to the ship when he first came aboard however many weeks ago - tells him there are emergency supplies enough to last four days. Hopefully someone picks them up before then. Mostly because now that he's no longer moving and freaking out, he's fucking freezing.

He gets them heading in the right direction - he fucking hopes - before going back to Lindsey and trying to make her comfortable. More comfortable. Mostly, that means he gives her pain meds and splints her leg. He can't do anything more. Frank hopes she'll forgive him if he curls up beside her. He wasn't even this scared when he deserted.

A day later, she wakes. Briefly. Disoriented. He tries to reassure her, but she's not terribly trustful by nature and she's a little delirious. She laughs bitterly when she realizes where they are, and mumbles something about the beacon.

On the third day, Frank finally figures out that she's modified the signal to only broadcast on certain frequencies. "Lindsey, what were you thinking?" he murmurs. She doesn't answer, just mutters indistinctly. They have one more day and then he's going to start getting really fucking freaked out. More than he already is.

He was worried that the other ship would chase them (not that he really thought they were anything other than a scavenger, fucking Pedicone, it had to have been him, he had to have fucking sold them out the last time the three of them docked, when he fucking disappeared) but there's been no sign of it.

He startles out of a restless doze at seven hundred hours on the morning of the fourth day with the comm beeping loudly at him. He slaps the button. "Hi. Hello? Is someone there?"

"Escape Pod CW789, this is the Mercury, I assume you'd be in favor of some assistance? What's your status?"

"I'm okay, but the pilot has a really fucking badly broken leg and has been mostly unconscious for the last few days," Frank replies.

"We have a trained medic aboard," the voice tells him. "Turn off autopilot at our signal and we'll establish a lock and bring you in."

Frank does as he's told and soon he's standing up straight for the first time in days while people swarm in to tend Lindsey. He doesn't know what to do, so he just watches. And shivers. He nearly jumps out of his skin when hands touch his shoulders, but it's just a man draping a blanket around him.

"How long were you out there?" he asks softly.

"This was the morning of the fourth day," Frank replies. His voice is scratchy and he clears his throat. "We were disabled by some fucking scavengers and it was either get the fuck out or nothing." Suddenly he thinks twice about answering so many questions. He doesn't know these people and certainly they don't know him. And won't, hopefully, if the fake ident chip he bought five or six ports ago is still holding up.

"Well, you're welcome here as long as you need," the man says. "And Gerard will take care of your friend as best he can. We've changed course toward the nearest medical station just in case. I'm Grant."

"Frank," he replies. "She's Lindsey and I don't know if she - who are - how'd you find us?"

"Picked up your distress signal and made for the coordinates. We always answer that particular frequency," Grant replies. He gives Frank a level look. "We know the Kraken is a privateer, Frank. We are too, if that puts you at ease." He laughs at the expression on Frank's face. "Comparatively. Come, I'll show you the open bunks. I'm sure you'd like to rest."

"I… yeah… Lindsey?"

"I'll take you to the medical bay after I show you a bunk. And maybe we can get you some clean clothes," Grant offers. Frank looks down at himself. He's covered in soot and grease and it's all four days old at least. "And maybe a shower?"

Frank can feel himself light up. "You have real showers?"

"You've been on a runner for too long," Grant smiles. "The Mercury is designed for a ten-person permanent crew. We have amenities." 

Suddenly Frank is sure that - "You're the captain."

Grant smiles. "Yes, I am. We don't stand on much ceremony here, so don't worry yourself."

Grant may not stand on ceremony, but Frank has had it drilled into his head. He feels his spine straightening, and clutches at the blanket instead of saluting. "Lead the way," he replies.

 

\--

 

When the Mercury crew pulled the person beside him from the escape pod, Grant thought he was a child. He's small and dirty, huddled in on himself and shivering. He's young, but certainly not a child. Whatever else he is, he's suspicious. Grant doesn't blame him, but it makes things difficult.

Grant knows the Kraken is one of theirs. But he isn't privy to the mission details of other ships, so he has no idea what they're dealing with here. He hopes the pilot, Lindsey, does. But she's somewhat indisposed at the moment.

Grant suspects any efforts to question Frank further are just going to make him defensive, so he leads him to the bunk area in silence. They rustle up a set of clothes for him to wear and Grant shows him the showers. "I'll take you to the medical bay when you're done." 

Frank nods. Once he disappears into the showers, Grant walks over and taps on one of the lounge's datascreens until he can pull up the Kraken's registration, both the official records and the... unofficial.

Officially, the Kraken is on a supply run between the Delta Moon and Station 7. Unofficially, she's doing that, plus a side trip to the Outer Base. Her cargo is not listed. Her captain - sole operator, really - is Lindsey Ballato, which scans. No other crewmembers are listed. Grant sighs. He's not surprised, but it would be nice if their records could actually help him for once.

He hears the whoosh of the sonic dryer and a minute or so later Frank emerges, looking...well. Clean. And no longer precisely like a kid. Grant had given him some of Gerard's clothing and the fit's not bad. Not bad at all.

"You look better, I must say," Grant says with a smile.

"I feel better," Frank replies. "Lindsey?"

Loyal, Grant thinks. "To the medbay," he says and stands. It's not far, but as Frank probably realizes, Grant isn't giving him free rein of the ship until he figures out this situation.

When they get to the medbay, Gerard is still busily working, but he seems less frantic than before. 

"I think she'll be okay," Gerard says to Frank. "She lost a lot of blood, but you did a good job." He strips off a pair of gloves and offers a hand. "Gerard. The ship medic, or something like that. Do you need me to look you over at all? I feel bad for being so distracted before."

"I'm fine. Just a little scraped up. She took the brunt of the blast," Frank says.

Lindsey grumbles and lifts a hand irritably, pushing at the tubes in her nose. "No, leave them," Gerard says gently. "You can come off oxygen when you can stay conscious."

"Fuck you," Lindsey croaks. She opens her eyes and scans them all. She stops on Frank. "You okay, Frankie? What happened?"

"Explosion in the engine compartment. Fire, decompression, you name it," Frank grumbles.

"Where are we?" Lindsey asks next. "Where's my ship?"

"Well, considering the fucking vultures descending on us, who the fuck knows," Frank says with a heavy sigh and runs his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry, but you were bleeding and we were dead in the water. I made the only call I could."

Loyal, but there's some tension here too, Grant thinks.

"They took the ship?" 

Gerard has to actually hold her to the mattress.

"Probably. I didn't exactly stick around to watch," Frank replies shortly. "I'm sorry. I couldn't do anything else." 

Grant watches her nostrils flare. "It's - not that I don't appreciate it, Frankie." She stops, and just finishes, "Thanks." She looks at Grant. "If you are who I think you are, you need to take me after my ship."

Gerard gets that look on his face that Grant knows well. The one which means there will be no arguing with him and if you pull rank on him... Well. Grant doesn't like to think about that often. "No," Gerard says firmly. "We're going to the nearest Med Station because your leg needs way more help than I have the ability to give it. Then we can go after your ship."

Frank has an apprehensive look on his face. "Where is the Med Station?"

"The nearest one we'd be, ah, welcome at is about a week away. In the wrong direction, judging by the trajectory of your pod," Grant says.

"The trajectory of the pod was just 'get the fuck away,'" Frank admits.

"Given the circumstances, I think that was probably valid," Grant says gently. He glances at Lindsey who is currently engaged in a staring match with Gerard.

"You're going to agree with me in a day or two when I wean you off the good painkillers," Gerard says stubbornly. She rolls her eyes, but Frank looks sideways.

"Uh. Sorry about that too. I followed the instructions in the med kit!"

"You did as well as anyone could," Gerard says patiently, "without training." Lindsey still looks upset, and she's clearly holding it in so she doesn't upset Frank. "Why don't you take Frank to the mess?" Grant suggests with a meaningful look at Gerard.

"Sure," Gerard says easily. "C'mon. You've been living on emergency rations for days. Bet you'd like a real fucking meal." Frank nods, takes one last look at Lindsey, and follows Gerard out of the medbay.

 

\--

 

Lindsey is about two seconds from freaking the fuck out and the only thing stopping her is that Frank's still in hearing range. Also her leg hurts like a motherfucker. The dark-eyed, bald captain in front of her - he's clearly waiting. He knows she has more to say. She counts to ten and takes a deep breath. "Morrison, I need my ship back," she says as evenly as she can.

"Whose outfit are you with, Ballato?" he replies.

"Does it matter?" she fires back. "I need my fucking ship and it's in your best interests to help me get it, I promise." She is sure that he has a fantastic poker face - she's heard so many rumors about this man and his crew - but right now he's letting her see every moment of consideration.

"All right, say we help you," he says. "What do we get in return?"

Lindsey laughs bitterly. "Two new crew members? I doubt the old girl is salvageable. I just need something from her." She pauses then, regretful. "I don't speak for Frank, actually. But you'd be crazy not to take him on if he's willing - best mechanic I've ever had."

"Is that so?" Morrison murmurs.

She nods. "If he couldn't get the ship to move, no one could. They must've completely blown up our systems."

"How did that happen, precisely?" Morrison asks.

Lindsey feels the sneer spread over her face. "So, I pick up strays now and then. It usually works out fairly well for me. There was one recently that...didn't. Fucker. I ever see him again, I'll skin him alive."

"He have a name we can put on the lists?" Morrison asks.

"Michael Pedicone. I doubt he'll use the same name again, but I can give you images and more data on him. If we get my ship back," she replies.

"Med Station first," Morrison replies. "Or Gerard will have my head."

"You often take orders from your medic?" she asks.

"When your medic is your best friend and he gets really fucking cranky when you ignore his advice, yes."

"How enlightened," Lindsey murmurs. "And the rest of your crew?"

"All friends. All very skilled. You'll like them." There's no mistaking Morrison's undertone of, "if you betray us, I will end you." He will, too. She knows this man's reputation.

"Better or worse than your medic?" Lindsey asks. Gerard, she doesn't know his last name, and she feels uncomfortable not knowing. He's apt to drive Lindsey insane. She can tell already.

Morrison laughs. "I imagine better, since Gerard isn't likely to let you move more than a few inches and I get the feeling that won't work well for you." Lindsey only holds back the growl because this much talking is making her seriously exhausted. "We can, of course, find things to keep you at least marginally entertained. This girl is full of people who have rather varied interests," Morrison says, clearly trying to be reassuring.

She sighs. "Any artists I could borrow some supplies from?"

He smiles. "Several, in fact. I'll arrange something, Lindsey. I want you to be as comfortable as possible. Think I ought to let you rest now."

She takes a breath. "I would appreciate it. Make sure Frankie is okay? He puts on a pretty good tough act."

"Does he?" Morrison asks mildly.

"I'm not going to tell you his story," Lindsey says quietly.

"I wouldn't dare ask. I'll try my best to make certain he's as well as can be," Morrison promises. Lindsey subsides back against the thin pillow of the medibunk. Fuck, she's exhausted.

When Morrison leaves, she stares up at the bunk ceiling and swears under her breath in several languages. If she's very, very lucky, the scavenger ship only took their supply cargo and didn't notice the small chip in a locked box bolted under the bunk in her quarters. Unless they scrapped her. Lindsey bites her lip. Her Kraken, her pride and joy. Held together with stubbornness - more than merely hers, since she took Frank on board - but not scrap, not yet.

A scrapyard, of course. Fuck, she hopes this Captain Morrison knows his stuff. Junkyard dogs are the same across the galaxy. 

She drifts off into a decidedly uncomfortable sleep after a few minutes and only wakes when Gerard comes back into the medbay. "Sorry," he murmurs. "Time for me to check your med levels."

"'S fine," she replies and tries to sit up. Mistake. "Oh, fucking motherfucker."

"Yeah, sorry about that too. You've been pretty sedated for the last few days and I can't give you too much more, either," Gerard says gently.

"What can you do?" she asks. She didn't really mean for it to come out quite so bitchy, though. It's not his fault.

"I can keep you company," Gerard says. "Talk to you? If you'd rather me not...."

She swallows. "I… please. I think I might go fucking insane if I don't have something to focus on that's not this fucking leg."

"Okay. Do you want my life story or should we do yours?"

Fuck, he's just...right out there in the open, isn't he. She laughs a little bit. "You start. I'm tired of talking."

"I never get tired of talking," Gerard replies.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," she mutters. "So what's your story?"

"I'm a draft dodger," he says cheerfully, sitting down on a stool by the workbench. "Grew up in the Core, did my mandatory training, got out as soon as I saw an opportunity. Then Grant plucked me off a base in the Albion system and that's when things really got interesting."

"How interesting?" she asks.

"Well, we were in a shootout with Core army ships within my first hour onboard," Gerard replies.

"That's not interesting, that's Tuesday," Lindsey replies.

He laughs. "Well, I didn't know that at the time. I was… super green. Even with the Core army training, I had no fucking clue what was out here. All I knew was that I didn't like what the Core was doing," Gerard explains.

Lindsey snorts. "Oh fuck, you're one of those."

Gerard waves a hand and smiles. "Yeah, yeah. Everyone else has been working harder than me for longer. But I'm trying to make up for it."

Lindsey tries to remember the last time she was that idealistic - or that honest. "You're adorable," she says. "Tell me more. Not about this. About before."

"Life was okay. Mom and dad worked hard, I went to school," Gerard says. "Had a little brother who was basically the best. Well, I still do. Haven't seen him since I got out." He looks sad at that.

"You were close?"

"He was always my best friend," Gerard says. "Anyway. It was… maybe not an idyllic life, but it was good. They do a good job of keeping the citizens in the dark about what's really going on."

"They do, don't they?" Lindsey replies drily. "And Morrison made you 'see the light?'"

Gerard laughs. "You make it sound dirty. We're not that way. It was his friend Neil who first helped me get out. Do you know Neil?"

"I've met him," she replies. "This is my first time meeting Morrison."

"You can call him Grant, you know. Everybody does."

She laughs. "Everyone where I'm from calls him Morrison. Usually with an accompanying tone of awe."

"You can call him Grant with a tone of awe," Gerard tells her, "and he'd probably get a kick out of it. So, you're not gonna tell me anything about yourself, Lindsey?"

"Maybe next time," she says with a reluctant smile.

"I can wait for next time," Gerard says. "I'm sorry I can't do more for your leg. It's a really fucking bad break and you really don't want to fuck with it." If he keeps saying he's sorry, she's going to start believing it.

 

\--

 

Gerard makes sure Lindsey is comfortable in her bunk and has water within reach before tugging the curtain to give her some privacy and going to check his supply stores. He's never dealt with a bone break that bad, but Frank really did do a good job of basic first aid. Everything would be much worse without him.

Frank hadn't been very talkative when Gerard had taken him to the mess, but he'd been appreciative. Gerard is desperately curious about both of their refugees. Frank has tattoos under his borrowed clothes, but Gerard couldn't see if they were Core or Outer Reaches style. He'd introduced him to Vince and Becky and then left him to sleep. He seems like a nice enough guy.

Gerard's mind goes back to Lindsey. He wouldn't have needed her to tell him she was from the Outer Reaches. Her tattoos say that loud and clear. He wanted to ask more questions about a few of them, but Lindsey is as reserved as Frank. It's something that he can usually actually get Grant to discuss with him - body mods, belief systems. But Grant seems preoccupied by their refugees too.

Grant clearly has decided that Lindsey's ship is worth going after. Whether that was for reasons to do with their general mission, whether he just likes Lindsey and Frank well enough to help them out, or if it's for some other reason, Gerard isn't sure yet. He decides to head to the bridge to see if Grant's there now.

Grant is sitting in his chair looking positively picturesque. Gerard unceremoniously flops down on the arm. "You're thinking deep thoughts."

"You can see the steam coming out of my ears?" Grant replies mildly. "How is our patient?"

"She's as good as she can be. Worried. Hopefully I can keep her from going too stir-crazy. How's Frank?"

"Skittish," Grant says.

"You don't trust him?" Gerard asks.

"I'm uncertain on that count. He is… she asked me to look after him," Grant replies.

"Do you trust her?"

"I don't know. But I'm willing to give her the benefit if the doubt until such time as she proves she's not trustworthy. She is on our list of allies," Grant says.

Gerard snorts. "Because that's always so reliable."

"You have good instincts, Gerard," Grant tells him. "You'll have to keep me informed."

"I will," Gerard promises. "I like her, though."

"Sorry to commandeer your clothes for Frank," Grant says.

Gerard laughs. "I didn't really notice."

"It's not as if you wear most of them anyway," Grant says. "You've been wearing the same outfit for what? A week now?"

"You're paying attention?" Gerard snarks.

"To your stench," Grant says.

Gerard thwaps him on the arm. "I do the sonic shower every fucking day, fuck you."

"It's the artfully tousled hair, it confuses him," someone teases. It's Vince, rubbing his own buzzed head.

Gerard laughs. "Hair envy, Grant?"

"No," Grant replies with a mock scowl. Gerard grins.

"Since we're going to the Med Station, we should stock up on everything," Gerard says after a few moments. "If we're going after a vulture, we might need to more than stock up."

"I spoke to Chris and Becky. They're in favor. Anything that keeps the trade lanes clear. Gerard, would you mind checking in on Jon?" Vince asks.

"He's still down in the converter farm?" Gerard asks.

"Should be," Grant replies. Gerard squeezes his shoulder and goes in search of Jon.

The rest of the day is positively uneventful. Every time he checks on Lindsey, she's sleeping. The next morning, he finds Frank sitting quietly by her side in the medbay. He smiles; Frank smiles back, tentatively, eyebrow lifting.

"She's doing fine," Gerard whispers. "Are you?"

Frank shrugs. "Okay, I guess. I'm not… It's a long story."

Gerard takes a moment to check Lindsey's med levels, then beckons Frank out of the medbay and into his office. It's tiny and messy, full of medical manuals and discarded clothes and a bunk that sees more use than his official one in the crew quarters. "I've got time," he says.

"I feel like I should be telling your boss this, too. Since he keeps asking," Frank says and makes a face.

"Do you want to?" Gerard asks. "Or just talk to me for right now?"

Frank sighs. "Might as well get him."

Gerard makes a face and tosses a sweatshirt out of the way and into the bunk. "I'll page Grant?" he offers.

Frank nods, and Gerard calls up to the bridge on the comm. Grant agrees to come down once Chris can relieve him, and Frank kicks his feet idly as they wait. Gerard has to resist the urge to do the same.

It doesn't take long for Grant to get there. He looks vaguely concerned and Frank looks guilty. "If you're busy, I can wait. It's not a big deal, I just didn't want to do the whole thing twice."

"What whole thing?" Grant asks

"My whole stupid story so you both stop being so damn nice and asking if I'm okay," Frank replies.

"Shall we be the judge of its stupidity?" Grant suggests.

"I'm a deserter," Frank says. Gerard is honestly a little bit surprised. He'd have pegged Frank for someone more like him, or someone from the Outer Reaches.

"Ident?" Grant asks.

"Got a new one from a guy Lindsey knows," Frank replies. "It's held up so far. Don't you...want to know why?"

"We know why," Grant says quietly.

"I guess you probably do. I'm… I never intended to… I miss my family. My dogs. My life. So… I'm not particularly fine, but I'm not traumatized from anything," Frank says.

Gerard's not sure he believes that.

"You don't have to say, but… what made you decide to leave?" Grant asks softly.

"I was a mechanic," Frank replies. "Never let myself think about what I was repairing ships and transports for. Until my unit got reassigned to one of the internment moons."

"Fuck," Gerard says. Frank nods grimly.

"I couldn't… couldn't be there, see that shit and stay. So the first weekend I had leave, I left planet and just… left the system."

"Just like that?" Grant says, and Frank makes a face.

"I'm not stupid. I hacked my way to a more outlying system and then started looking for an out. I found Lyn."

"And she helped you disappear altogether," Grant says. "You're very resourceful. More than most in your position. Not that life in the Core really prepares you for that kind of thing."

Frank snorts. "Life in the fleet does. Especially when you're five foot nothing and look like - well." His lips tighten and he stares at the toes of his boots.

Grant, Gerard notices, is looking at Frank with an odd mixture of guilt and admiration. Well that's interesting. "The Mercury is a safe place for refugees of all kinds," Gerard tells Frank. "It's what we do. Well, besides the smuggling." He smiles brightly. "If Captain Ballato promised you passage to somewhere in particular, we'll honor it."

"She didn't, really. I mean. Mostly I was just part of her crew," Frank says. "I didn't have anywhere to go."

"All right," Grant replies. "Well. We certainly have things for you to do on board as well. If you're... interested?" There's that face again.

"I don't have any other plans, so I'd be grateful. I… I should see what Lindsey plans on, I guess," he says. "She's been good to me."

"We'll all be together for a while yet before we reach the Med Station."

"And find her ship," Frank adds. "It's my fault she lost it."

"I'm afraid she's probably been stripped entirely of anything that would make her run. We'll find the husk in a junkyard," Grant says.

"Then why are we… there was something on there she didn't tell me about."

"Yes. And no, she didn't tell me either. But I can guess. Anyway, as I said, we have no full time mechanic on board, just several people who can bang around an engine until something works," Grant says.

"I...what?"

"Sounds like he's offering you the job," Gerard replies.

"I will, of course, offer Lindsey similar if her ship is not salvageable. Even just temporarily, if you'd like," Grant explains.

"Thank you," Frank says quietly.

"Have you had breakfast yet, Frank?" Grant asks. Frank shakes his head. "It's Chris's week for kitchen duty, that always means good breakfasts," Grant says. "How about we get food and coffee and I can tell you a little bit more about what I'd like you to do?"

Frank nods. "All right." He gets up and follows Grant to the door.

Grant stops and ruffles Gerard's hair on the way out. Gerard swats his hand away and rummages through his drawers for the blank sketchbook and drawing pencils he knows he stashed in one of them. Give Lindsey something to do.

"Good morning," he says cheerfully when he enters the medbay and finds her sipping at her water.

"Hi," she replies with a slight smile.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Like I have a broken leg," she replies with a grimace.

"You took the pills I left?" he asks.

"Yeah, just now."

"Okay, let's give those time to start working and then we can get you some breakfast and whatever else you need. In the meantime, I have a present for you," he says.

"It better not be pointy," she snarks.

"Well, unfortunately it is," he answers, lips twitching, and hands her the book and pencils.

"You are my favorite person in the fucking universe right now," Lindsey breathes.

Gerard beams. He definitely likes the sound of that. "I'm going to work in my storeroom while you draw," he says. "Then maybe we can have breakfast together."

She beams back at him. "Okay." She picks up a pencil and opens the book. Yeah, Gerard knows that feeling. He'll give her a little while to make the book hers.

He likes her a lot, especially after hearing Frank's story. "I pick up strays," she'd said. She's more than she lets on, probably in more ways than one.

 

\--

 

Frank follows Grant to the mess. He's not sure what to think, if he should even trust these people, but they seem kind and Frank has very little other choice at the moment. It's hard to spend any time around smugglers' ports and not learn Grant Morrison's name. Grant is legendary amongst all the various factions opposing the Core. He's very, very good at everything he decides he needs to do. Frank is honestly surprised at how relaxed his ship seems.

But it is. No one seems to have titles, just jobs. And now he wants to hire Frank, at least temporarily. He feels such a sense of relief about it that his head practically spins. How could he not trust the legendary captain? At the very least, it will give him something to do on the journey to the med station. Frank can't really imagine being stuck doing nothing all that time. He'd go crazy so fucking fast.

"They do all, in fact, taste rather the same," Grant murmurs in his ear, and Frank jumps and realizes he's been staring at the meal packs fixedly for a minute or two.

He shakes himself. "Vegetarian?"

"Ah, this is the one you want," Grant says and hands Frank the proper packet. "I'm a vegetarian too, so I try to get in a variety every once in a while. Sometimes that's easier said than done, but I do make the attempt."

"Lyn tried. The army, ah. Didn't." Frank sits down at a table and Grant sits across from him.

"Glad we can accommodate you there, then," Grant says. "When necessary, I'll eat what's given to me, but I try not to."

"You're an interesting man, Captain," Frank says.

He grins. "I'm glad you think so. Tell me more about yourself, Frank."

"I'm not sure I remember anything anyone else would find interesting," Frank says.

"I find that unlikely. Tell me what you enjoy when you have time for yourself," Grant says.

"Music," Frank says immediately, with a vast wave of relief as soon as he says the word. It's been so long since he's even thought about music.

Grant smiles at him. "Anything in particular?"

"Everything," Frank replies. "I love it all. Electronic, jazz, punk, everything."

"Do you play?" Frank nearly jumps again when Grant taps one of his callouses.

"Not in too long. I had to leave my guitar in the Core," Frank replies with a frown. "It was a piece of crap, but it was mine. Anything else I just had to borrow off my friends. Oh well, too late now." He isn't gonna be back there any time soon.

"Well, should you like, I have an acoustic that Gerard gave me for a birthday a couple of years ago that you could borrow," Grant offers.

A guitar. He has a guitar. Frank felt lucky to hook up with Lindsey, who actually kept a drive full of music files onboard. But this - "I have no idea what to say to this."

Grant waves a hand. "You don't have to say anything. It's hard out here. We do what we can to help each other stay sane."

"Tell me something about you," Frank blurts.

"Well, aside from music, I write. Mostly fiction," he replies.

"When do you have time for that?" Frank laughs a little. So does Grant.

"I don't sleep much. But I can live on not much sleep. I can't live without writing," Grant says. His face transforms when he says it, eyes shining.

"Do you have anything I could read? Like. If it's personal, I totally get that. But if you've got a book or something…" Frank trails off, feeling awkward.

"Do you have a tablet? I can transfer some files."

"I did manage to drag mine into the escape pod," Frank says. "Thank fuck it was right there, otherwise that three and a half days drifting through space would have fucking sucked. Um. More."

"Come see me in my private quarters later and I'll transfer some files." Something about the way he says it makes Frank's stomach flutter even though he knows it's not meant to be flirtatious.

"Yeah, sure. I will," he agrees.

"And you can get the guitar too. Though, if you wanted to play for me, I wouldn't object." 

There's a large portion of Frank's brain that's screaming at him about how this is all too good to be true, and it's making his blood pressure rise. "Maybe," he says and forces himself to keep his mouth closed so he doesn't say anything more, anything stupid.

"I'll take a maybe," the captain says. Just then, Chris - Frank thinks his name is Chris - plops down next to them with his tray.

"Hello, hello," he says with a grin.

"Hi," Frank says. "What do you do again?"

"Whatever Grant tells me," he shoots back.

"Chris," Grant murmurs.

"Nav engineer," Chris adds. "Primarily."

"If you need any help with anything, I have some experience with nav systems," Frank says. "I mean, not a lot, but I'd be a good extra set of hands."

"Do I ever," Chris says.

Frank looks to Grant. He nods. "I think that'd be excellent. We can always use extra hands most places on the ship." Grant finishes eating first. He stands and reaches out to touch Frank's shoulder. "Glad to have you."

"Thanks," Frank replies. He feels so strange and off-balance. This is too easy, too fast. But Christ, he hopes he's just being a paranoid bastard.

Chris watches the captain go with a shit-eating grin. "He likes you, kid."

"What?" Frank asks. "I mean. I don't. He's known me five minutes."

"So you're telling me you're not that likeable?"

Frank rolls his eyes. "Dunno about that. I've never fuckin' met me, have I?"

"Wouldn't that be a trip," Chris says easily. "You done? I've got a big engine room full of shit that needs maintenance."

Frank takes a last couple of bites and drains the rest of his coffee. "Am now. Show me her guts."

"That's what I like to hear. Follow me."

After they incinerate their trash, Chris leads him out of the mess and down into the maintenance level. She's a well-maintained ship. Cleaner than many he's seen, and organized. From the way Chris babbles on as they walk, Frank gets the impression that his initial answer of "whatever Grant tells me" was not that far off - sure, he's a nav engineer, but he's got stories and information about over half the systems and jobs on the ship.

They really do all seem to work together as a cohesive team. That might be the strangest thing of all. Frank hasn't encountered that before. Not even in the army. Maybe especially not the army. But somewhere in the flow of Chris's babble he identifies a few projects he can work on, and Chris grins and points him towards a workstation with gear and tools. Frank gets to work and after that, the day goes by pretty fast. He does give Chris an extra set of hands a couple of times. It's good to be busy.

At lunch, instead of eating with the crew again, he grabs an apple and heads to the med bay. Lindsey's drawing. Actually drawing, on paper. And she's good. At least as far as Frank's eyes are concerned.

"Hi!" she says and grins at him when she looks up. He's kind of taken aback.

"You seem better," he says.

She grimaces then. "If I move much more than I am, it hurts like a motherfucker. But Gerard gave me shit to draw with and that's kind of nice. I'll get really fucking restless soon, but for now..." She shrugs.

"That's good. I've been working in the engine room all morning. And Morrison said he'd let me borrow his guitar," Frank says and settles back in the chair.

"Compared to a couple days ago, that's a vacation," Lindsey says.

"For fucking real," Frank replies.

 

\--

 

At lunch, Grant looks around for Frank, but he's nowhere to be found.

"He's in the med bay," Gerard tells him when he catches him looking. "Saw him go in."

"Just trying to keep an eye on him," Grant says.

"Not 'cause you're afraid he's going to blow up the ship, though," Gerard says and takes a bite of his curry.

"Of course not. Why would you suggest that?" Grant replies.

"I'm not suggesting he will. I'm suggesting you think he's pretty. Which is a fair assessment, really," Gerard replies.

"Thanks for that," Grant says dryly. "Your observational skills are a credit to us all."

"You're welcome," Gerard returns with a grin.

"He seems very… lost. Alone," Grant says quietly after a beat.

"I can't tell if you're doing a dad thing or a white knight thing right now," Gerard says, because Gerard is sometimes an asshole.

"Fuck you," Grant says easily. "And perhaps I don't really know myself. And it's even more possible that he neither needs nor wants either."

Gerard laughs. "So neither of us knows anything. Situation normal."

"You know all about Captain Ballato, surely," Grant needles gently.

"Not really. I gave her a sketchbook and pencils and she drew most of the morning," Gerard replies.

"How delightful," Grant says. "If only we knew more about her mission..."

"I can try, but I don't think she'll talk," Gerard replies. "Not unless she really fucking trusts us."

"So make sure she knows she can," Grant tells him.

"I will," Gerard promises. Grant has little doubt Gerard will do his best. He can be very disarming when he puts his mind to it. He sits and studies his medical officer over his mug. He was fortunate to find Gerard, as with all his crew. He was attracted at first. If Gerard were at all attracted to men, perhaps something would have happened between them. As it is, he's not and he and Grant fell into an easy and inspiring friendship.

Gerard is more like family than anything else at this point. He joins a motley and beloved crew in that. Gerard, he has to admit, is closer to him than the rest, apart from maybe Vince.

Grant prides himself on being self-aware. He knows he's become increasingly lonely. He loves his crew, every one, but he would like… someone. Someone to share more than just the pathways of the Mercury with. He's afraid, more than anything else, to let himself grasp at straws. But Frank is lovely and interesting and there's no harm in getting to know him more if he can. And then, possibly, trying his hand at seduction. Grant has no illusions.

"Think I'll take a walk," he tells Gerard. Gerard smirks at him, but reaches out to squeeze his hand gently as he moves to get up from the table. Gerard notices more than he lets on. 

Grant does spend some time walking his ship. He loves every contrary inch of her. She's his and they've all put a lot of work into her. He ends up near the med bay, which is where he meant to find himself, but he still sees Gerard's smirk in his mind. Maybe he should hang back. Give Frank - and Lindsey - some space. He's about to walk away, go to his quarters for the rest of the lunch hour, something, when Frank comes out of the medbay. He smiles at Grant - he really is beautiful.

"How's your lunch been?" Grant asks. "How's the captain?"

"Fine. Impatient," Frank replies.

Grant smiles. "I'm sure I'd be feeling the same were I in her place."

"Gerard gave her some stuff to draw with, so she's happier than she could be," Frank says. He sounds grateful.

"He's an excellent medic," Grant says. "And a caring person."

"He seems it. All your crew has been, ah, really welcoming so far," Frank says. He sounds slightly suspicious.

'Half of my crew has been in your position, or knows someone who has," Grant reminds him.

Frank nods. "Was there anything else you had in mind for me to do? I mean. I still have plenty I can do in the engine room, but if there's anything else…"

"If Chris runs out of projects for you, see Becky," Grant tells him. Becky's their quartermaster, she'll sort something out. Frank nods.

"I'll do that. Thanks, Captain." Frank walks off in the direction of the engine room. 

Grant has to force himself not to follow. He goes into the medbay instead.

"Hello, Captain," Lindsey says, blinking at him.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"Meds," she says. "Making me sleepy. Pretty sure I actually did drift off on Frank a time or two."

"I hope they're at least working for you," Grant murmurs. "It's miserable to be in pain and feel the side effects of medication."

"I'll survive. Or so your doc assures me."

"You will. And we'll get you to the Med Station as soon as we can and make sure you do more than survive," Grant assures her.

"Will I thrive, Captain?"

Grant smiles. "One hopes. Your crewman has been very helpful so far and he's only been working half a day."

"Frank," Lindsey smiles. "He's had so many tough breaks, but he's a stubborn little bastard."

"He proved that just by getting the two of you as far as he did," Grant says.

"I owe him," she murmurs. She sounds exhausted.

"I'll let you rest now," Grant tells her.

She sighs. "Sorry."

He waves away her apology. "Perhaps we will have some more time to chat once we've got you healed up. Until then, I'm glad to let you sleep," he says. Lindsey gives him a tired smile and he leaves her alone.

But where to go? He supposes there are things that need doing on the bridge. And things that need doing… most everywhere. He's not desperate enough to talk his way into Engineering. The bridge, yes. He'll see who's on watch. He's forgotten. 

Vince is sitting in his chair staring at a data pad.

"Are the answers to the world's questions in that data pad?"

"Maybe if I look hard enough," Vince replies. "Reading mail from my oldest."

"How is she?" Grant asks and sits down in the chair nearest him.

"Finding lessons stupid and useless," Vince replies and laughs tiredly. "Like father, like daughter."

"You could just tell her that if she's not careful she'll end up with a dodgy boss and a job on the wrong side of the law," Grant suggests.

Vince laughs and runs a hand down his face. "That would be part of the problem. She doesn't understand why she needs them. 'Dad quit school, he's fine!'"

"This is why I don't have children, Vin, I'm shit at this part."

"If the damn schools could have more art classes, she'd be happy as a clam. As it is, the art teacher can only come once a week and teaches half the quadrant," Vince says.

"I thought when we all started this resistance, that we'd be making things better for our children," Grant murmurs. "It's difficult to admit that it may only be for our children's children, Vin."

"But we can try," Vince replies, and squeezes his arm. "Anyway, I was thinking of asking some of our resident artists if they'd maybe do some vid lessons with her. I'm not above bribery."

"You should include Lindsey, as long as she's with us," Grant tells him. "It will keep her occupied."

"Good to know," Vince replies. He laughs. "How do we wind up with every artist in the Alliance on this ship, though?"

Grant grins and shrugs. "And Frank is a musician."

"After we picked up Jon and Gerard, Chris started checking the ship for subsonic frequencies," Vince reminds him.

Grant laughs. "And has he found anything?"

"No, but I'm sure he's still looking," Vince replies. "So how are our visitors?"

"Frustrated and suspicious, respectively, though they're putting a good face on it. I realize this detour to the Med Station is taxing our timeline."

"We can still make the stop at the junker base, too, if I adjust our route," Vince tells him, tapping on his datapad and handing it over with a map pulled up.

Grant nods, looking at the timestamps. "They're going to have to come with us to the rendezvous point, so it will all be on the table after that. At least on our part."

"Will that be a problem, do you think?"

"No," Grant says. And he really is as sure as he knows he sounds. He just wishes he could convince Lindsey and Frank.

Jon comes in. "Captain, I need you to sign off on some of these weapons systems upgrades. Can I borrow you?"

"Of course," Grant says and stands. He squeezes Vince's shoulder on his way out. He follows Jon down the corridor, noting how rumpled he looks.

"You skipping your off-duty rotations again, Jon?" 

Jon laughs sheepishly. "I got caught up in a game with Gerard and one of our friends on the Palomino over vid link."

"I suppose I can't scold you for that, then," Grant laughs.

"Gerard, of course, looks like he slept for fifteen hours and woke up feeling great," Jon grouses.

"When's the last time anyone on this ship got fifteen hours of sleep?" Grant teases.

"Never. Unless deathly ill or horribly injured," Jon says. "And that is not the preferred sleeping method." He waves Grant to sit down at the main console, and leans in to type in a few command strings, showing him the program upgrades.

"Anything I should know about these?" Grant asks.

"Standard targeting upgrades," Jon replies. "Oh, and the BAL will be stronger by a factor of three, so we should account for that when firing."

"Where's the extra power for that coming from?"

"Chris worked up an exchange in the power core. He's got the new dude checking capacitors."

"Excellent. Let me know when everything is complete. We'll find some space debris to test it on," Grant says.

Jon grins wolfishly. "Who needs sleep? Thanks, Grant."

"Any time," Grant replies and goes toward the engine room. It's time for his rounds anyway.

Chris and Frank are so hard at work that neither of them see Grant right away. Grant already knows all of Chris's habits, but watching Frank is fascinating. He works hard, forehead wrinkled in concentration. He makes faces and Grant is sure that if he were closer, he'd hear noises too.

Chris spots him first. "Hey boss."

Frank's head snaps up and his eyes meet Grant's. "Captain," he says.

"Frank, Chris," Grant greets. "Frank, Jon said you were checking the capacitors. How's that going?"

"Fine. You had some overloaded circuits, I've been rerouting some things while I do the checks."

"Good to hear. When you're done, I promised Jon we could take the new and improved BAL out to destroy some space debris," Grant says.

Frank grins. "I'm always in favor of blowing shit up. But… BAL?"

Grant laughs. "Big-ass laser."

"Oh, well then." Frank laughs.

"This ship is full of creative people, but sometimes the only way to go is the obvious one," Grant says. He wants to make Frank laugh again, and soon. It's an infectious rusty giggle. "I'll leave you lads to it," Grant says. He'd like to stay, maybe help out, shoot the shit. But he has more to do.

 

\--

 

"No," Lindsey says, twisting out from under a pile of metal. "Fuck, no, I'm not ready." A spike of agony shoots through her leg.

"Hey, you're okay," a voice tells her. "Here, let me…" Relief floods her body. "There. The pain should be better."

Med bay. The Mercury. Gerard, the beautiful medic. Lindsey has to remind herself. She has no idea why her dreams like to send her back to the Kraken.

"Thanks," she croaks. "Fuck."

"Wanna talk about it?" Gerard asks. "I mean, you don't have to, but I know… I get night terrors sometimes. Talking to someone about them helps me."

"I used to crew on a bigger ship like this one," she says, stopping to cough. She reaches for her water only to find Gerard, and it, well within arm's reach immediately. "Shit happened. I can tell myself not to think about it sometimes. When I'm awake."

"I do the thing where I get stuck on something, thinking about it obsessively, and then I dream about it," Gerard says.

"When it's not keeping you awake?" she asks.

"Exactly," Gerard replies with a sardonic smile. "Who'd you lose?" he asks matter-of-factly. He's a medic, of course he's matter-of-fact, she thinks.

"My team," she replies. "We were at Anatolia. The only thing that saved me was that I was in a shuttle running some equipment to our ship in orbit."

"You kept the shuttle after that," he says, not really questioning. 

"I could fly her by myself if I needed to. And did, a lot. I end up picking up one or two others a lot too. More would be too much. They don't usually stay long."

"How long has Frank been with you?" Gerard asks curiously.

"A few months," Lindsey says with a sigh. "I would have kept him on but he's not - he doesn't -"

"Doesn't what?" Gerard asks. "Seems like he's pretty loyal to you."

"I should have trusted him more," she sighs.

"You should trust us all more," he says pointedly.

"Touché," she replies tiredly. "It would help if I wasn't ninety-nine percent certain the guy who was with us up until two weeks before the attack hadn't sold us out."

Gerard narrows his eyes. He still looks more elfin than anything else, but she gets the sense that he could be a dangerous enemy anyway. "Name? I can do some poking in the files."

"He went by Michael Pedicone. I don't know if that was his real name, though," she replies. "If nothing else, I should probably report him to command."

"You didn't already?"

"Was a little busy being chased down by wreckers," she tells him with an eye roll. "And I didn't know until they showed up. And then there was the whole broken leg and being drugged to the gills thing. And Frank didn't know any of the comm channels because I'm an idiot who didn't trust him."

Seriously, she needs to fucking apologize to him. Everything would have been easier if she'd just unclenched a bit.

"The past is done," Gerard says.

She grimaces. "Yeah. Hopefully it's done with me too."

"The future is all yours," Gerard murmurs. "Maybe it's even here."

That thought feels… strange to her. Until a few days ago, she couldn't have imagined leaving her little Kraken or having anyone other than herself to answer to. She looks at him from under lowered eyelids. He's interesting. His hair is a little wild, dark brown. He's got a pretty face. He looks young, but she wouldn't place any bets on how young. She sort of wants to draw him. More than that, to trace the lines of his cheekbones with her fingers. These are the kinds of things that get Lindsey in trouble. She gives herself a mental shake.

"So Gerard Way of the Mercury. Tell me something interesting."

"This game again?" Gerard asks, vaguely teasing.

"I'm bored and from where I'm sitting, you're the most interesting thing on this boat," she replies.

"I don't know if that's strictly true," he says.

She smiles. "Well, so far I've met you and your captain, and there's no one else in the room, so…"

He laughs. "So it's like that. Should I ask the crew to come by and entertain you?"

"Nah, not unless they want to," she says. "You're pretty okay." Fuck, she's flirting.

Gerard smiles bright. "I try. Maybe I can do better than okay at some point."

"Perfectionist, then?" she asks with a laugh.

"Always." He starts into a story, then, about some long-ago project for school where he decided to make his own short film, and how it spiraled out of control. "Of course, it turned out fucking awesome, but holy shit," he ends.

"Shit," she echoes. "I wish we'd gone to the same school, Gerard. You would have been a hell of a lot of fun."

"I still am," he replies.

"I bet you are," she says.

"What sort of trouble did you get into?" he asks.

"Me? I never got into trouble," she replies straight-faced.

He snorts. "Yeah, I don't believe that. Not even a little bit."

"Nothing that's not beyond a statute of limitations," she corrects. "But still..." He laughs again. She likes his laugh. It's loud, like it was surprised out of him every time. "And really, I only got arrested once," she adds.

"Once was enough?"

"Apparently not, because now I'm doing...what I'm doing," she says softly.

"Hey, at least you're not in it alone," Gerard says. "I bet you weren't then, either. Maybe that's the problem. It's so much more fun making trouble when you have people to do it with."

"You like making trouble, Doc?" she murmurs.

"I'm here, aren't I?" he asks with a grin. She likes him. Too bad she's got a broken-ass leg and he's currently the one pumping her full of drugs. At least when he's in the medbay, she has company. She wonders what he does normally. It's not a massive ship and he probably doesn't normally need to use his medic skills.

"So, you're the medic and the comic relief? Anything else?" she asks. Might as well.

"You only think I'm the comic relief because you haven't met Chris yet."

"Maybe," she says. "So?"

"In regular situations, I'm the comm officer," Gerard replies. "Which probably isn't all that surprising. I also take turns at the helm."

"Wish I could see the rest of the ship," she says.

"You will." Gerard sounds completely confident. "Seriously, I got everything back where it's supposed to be and now it's in stasis. We just need to get you into a May Chamber and you'll be golden within an hour. Unfortunately, they're too fucking big and too expensive for our size of ship."

She nods. "You've been great. I'm just...not a great patient."

"Hey, it's okay. I can definitely get some of the rest of the crew down here and introduce them. They're a great bunch and they're curious fuckers," he says.

"I'm good with that," she says. And actually means it. 

Gerard chuckles darkly. "Wait until their curiosity almost gets you blown up."

"Do I want to know?" Lindsey asks.

"Becky found an anomaly on the sensors. We went looking. Turned out it was one of those super fucking sophisticated Core space mines," he replies. "Luckily, we now have their signature, so we know to avoid them. She and Jon are the best in the business, though, probably because they've run through so many of their nine lives."

Lindsey laughs and shows him her arm. "I'm getting close too."

Gerard reaches out and wraps his fingers loosely around her wrist. "Fuck, these are badass," he says and leans in closer. "Love the cat."

He's really attractive close-up. Fuck, she needs to get laid. But she really fucking can't be thinking about it right now. She's got a broken leg, and a missing fucking piece of vital equipment. "First things first," she mutters.

 

\--

 

Their unexpected guests have been onboard for four days. Frank seems to be fitting in pretty well so far and Lindsey… she's something else. His grandma, rest her, would call Lindsey a "pistol" in an admiring tone. She would be right. And fuck, she's gorgeous too. He loves talking to her.

He feels guilty for even thinking it, but he's sort of glad they can talk like this. Just the two of them for a lot of the day. She sleeps a lot - either because of the pain or because of the pain meds - so Gerard lets her sleep in private...most of the time. Sometimes, though. Sometimes he's bored and lonely while she's sleeping, and he doesn't want to leave her alone because she keeps having nightmares. So he sits and draws her while she sleeps. It's probably creepy. But no one's caught him yet.

He's got some really kind of awesome drawings, too. He started adding scenery around her and suddenly she became a character in epic stories. He wishes he could show her.

He sighs and shades in the area around her jawline. He's pretty sure they have the morning to themselves, though Frank will probably be here later. He's spent lunch here the last few days. Gerard likes having him around. Frank is funny and he has good taste and Gerard really likes seeing how Grant's eyes have started lighting up when Frank is around.

He worries about Grant. Partly because he's like Grant in a lot of ways. He knows that, like him, Grant tends to go all in and then hope for the best. He knows Grant has been lonely lately. He's just not sure why this deserter is the one Grant's developed an interest in. Well. He is objectively really good looking. But Grant is definitely not one to become so enthralled based solely on looks. Gerard just isn't sure if Frank will stick around. He wonders if either of them will stick around. He really fucking hopes so. Not just because Lindsey has the face of a princess and the mouth of - well, the captain she is.

She starts stirring and he puts his sketchbook in a drawer and makes sure there's water close by if she wants it.

"I think you were lying to me about having an actual job on this ship," she rasps. He looks up to see her smiling. "You're always sitting over there reading." 

He laughs. "Well, gotta make sure you're okay and we're not exactly doing a lot right now. Lots of upgrading shit and wandering the ship drinking coffee."

"Tell me the truth, coffee drinking is your real job."

"That… is entirely possible," Gerard replies. "I'm really fucking good at it. A pro, if you will."

"Good to know. In case I ever need to find a professional."

"You never know when a coffee drinking pro will be needed! I am fucking great at sniffing out coffee wherever I am," he exclaims and waves his hands, just to see if he can make her smile. 

He can. It's getting easier every day. He admires her so much for the way she handles the pain, really. And she's got a great fucking smile. It lights up her whole face. 

He starts reading her the newsroll headlines. She'd admitted yesterday that he had a nice voice and would he please? Like Gerard could say no.

He's still reading when Jon comes in. He comes in quietly and sits until Gerard is done. "How's the Mercury's favorite patient today?" he asks.

"Where are they?" Gerard asks, peering around exaggeratedly. Lindsey throws a balled-up sock at him. He bats it away and grins at her.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking, Jon."

"Brought you a surprise." Jon hands Lindsey a small handheld screen. "Souped-up game system."

"Oh fuck yes," she says and then laughs. "Hopefully I can manage to play without flailing around too much."

"You don't want to see Gerard in a bad mood." Jon grins at him.

"You doing more damage to your leg would definitely put me in a bad mood. No flailing," he says.

"What he's not telling you is that he's a flailer too," Jon says.

"Shut up, Jon." Gerard has to smile, though.

"I have seen you move like you're actually sword fighting with a tiny console more times than I can count. You live in a glass house," Jon says.

"You've known me too long," Gerard laughs.

"I really fucking have," Jon replies.

"How long?" Lindsey asks curiously.

Gerard looks at Jon, who looks back. "Since university?"

"Yup. We met the second week of class, if I recall correctly," Jon says.

"Aw. You must have been such babies." Lindsey's eyes twinkle.

"Oh, we were," Gerard says. "We got up to so much shit."

"We may have been babies, but this fucker hardly looks any different," Jon says.

She startles Gerard a bit when she reaches over to pat his cheek. "I see what you mean."

He can't help but smile at her. "The baby face is a blessing and a curse."

"You're very dashing," she tells him, "but Jon brought me a homemade game system so he wins today's prize."

Gerard pouts. "How can I even hope to compete with that?"

Jon laughs. "Pretty sure there's no actual competition here, dude." Gerard is not sure exactly what Jon means by that but he's counting himself lucky that Jon's being that vague at all. "All right, I gotta skedaddle. Captain is having Frank and I test the plasma conduits," Jon says.

"I'll miss you," Gerard says with a grin.

"I'll miss you more," Lindsey says. "You add much-needed variety to my life." She winks at Gerard when she says it.

"I can leave," Gerard offers. "I'm sure someone else on this ship wants to watch me drink coffee."

"No!" she exclaims. "No, you can stay. I like watching you drink coffee. Also I haven't had one of these for years. Come sit down with me." She waves the game system and pats the mattress. 

Gerard beams at her and moves to sit next to her. "If I had mine, we could play together. But maybe you should get used to it again before being subjected to playing with anyone."

She laughs. "That might be good."

She turns on the unit and the holo projection starts with a whoosh. He doesn't even notice Jon slipping out. They waste a good hour or two like that. Gerard has fun watching Lindsey design her character. She starts yawning once she gets past the first few levels and Gerard laughs as she starts wandering off the path.

"Eyes on the prize, Linds," he teases. 

She pauses the game and makes a face. "I think the prize might be behind my eyelids at this point."

He tugs the game out of her hands and saves it. She leans her head on his shoulder and sighs sleepily. He bites his lip and wraps an arm around her shoulders. She just leans more fully against him. Yeah, he'll be her pillow. Fuck. He takes a deep breath and lets her settle in. God, he likes this girl.

Grant comes in a while later and Gerard raises a finger to his mouth and shushes him quietly. Grant raises an eyebrow at him. Gerard returns his look with one he hopes says, "Yes, and you share every lunch and every dinner with Frank."

Grant smiles toothily, but it looks a little tentative. Gerard pulls his sketchbook toward him and writes, "Come back later?"

Grant nods. Gerard settles back in to rest. Since he's here. 

She sleeps for an hour and wakes up slowly. He can't quite help pushing her hair out of her face. She smiles sweetly and he wants to kiss her; instead, he gets up and checks her med levels and her splints. "You're doing fine. Hungry?"

"I could eat," she says.

"I'll go get some stuff. Frank will probably be here in a minute and I should go talk to Grant. He stopped in while you were sleeping."

"Yeah, I. Sorry 'bout that." She gives him a half-smile.

"Not a problem at all," he says. He hopes she knows he means it. "I'll come back soon. With food."

"See you then," she says, grabs the console, and starts playing again. 

Gerard goes to find Grant first. Grant, who's actually in his private quarters for once. Gerard curls up next to him. "How fucked am I right now?"

Grant laughs and wraps an arm around him and squeezes. "No more than I am."

"Well. At least I'm not alone."

"You very rarely are," Grant says. "On the bright side, if they're going to leave, it will likely happen before we get overly attached."

"At least I'll always have you," Gerard says.

"That you will," Grant replies. Gerard leaves a smacking kiss on his cheek and sits up straight again.

"I promised I'd bring back lunch. Did you stop by earlier for anything in particular, or just to visit?"

"Some transmissions came in earlier that will need decoding as soon as you come back on shift." 

Gerard nods. "I can do that. Have a good lunch, Grant. Or. You could come hang out with Frank and Lindsey and I, you know."

 

\--

 

"Dude, you suck at this," Frank says after silently watching Lindsey play her new game for a few minutes.

"Fuck you, I'm having fun and I haven't played for years."

"Just saying." Frank leans back and watches Lindsey shoot her way into a warehouse on the holoscreen. "That come from Jon?" He asks when she pauses the game and turns to him. 

She grins. "Yup. This ship isn't half bad."

"It's really not," Frank agrees.

"I know… it's maybe a little premature since I don't even have the use of my leg back, but… Morrison offered to let us stay. Would that be… would you be interested in that? I mean, you can do whatever you want, but…" 

Frank's not sure he's ever seen her stumble over her words so much. "You don't think you're getting your ship back?"

"It was practically dead when we left," she says. "There's nothing on it of value except… I should have told you. I'm sorry I didn't."

"What is it?" Frank says, sitting up straight.

"We were carrying a chip. Vital for a communication array the resistance forces are building on the station. It takes months to fabricate and if we can't find it--"

"We're screwed?" Frank asks lightly.

"Yep." She sets the gaming device down, looking suddenly tired.

"Hey, it's only gonna be like searching for a needle in a haystack," Frank says. "We'll manage. We've managed harder."

"Sorry to drag you into my shit."

He shrugs. "As I recall, I signed up for it when I deserted."

"Guess that's as good a way to look at it as any," she replies. "But Frank, don't you have someplace else you might want to spend some time?"

"You're my friend and you're stuck here. I figure the least I can do is spend lunch with you," he replies. 

She doesn't deny that they're friends. That makes him weirdly happy. Just then, Gerard comes in with a tray of food, Grant trailing behind him with another tray.

"Lunch!" he says brightly. Frank likes Gerard. He's sweet and smart, and capable in both of his official capacities. And he's clearly got the biggest crush in the world on Lindsey. Which is okay, because Lindsey appears to return it.

Frank shakes his head when he catches Grant's eye. Grant looks as fondly amused as Frank. "You joining us today?" Frank asks Grant. He's relaxed around him since the first day, when every instinct told him to snap to attention when Grant was in the room.

"Briefly," Grant replies. "Then I have to do a walk through for Chris."

Frank smiles. "We can work with briefly. Have you eaten yet?"

Grant grins and displays his food tray. "Two veg meals, they're not both for me."

Frank smiles wider. "Awesome."

They get situated around Lindsey's bed. Gerard sits on the bed with her, which is new. They smile at each other, and it's good to see her smiling. Frank knows he isn't the happiest companion, and Lindsey has a past of her own. 

Frank turns to Grant. "You never finished telling me about the thing with the rock star and you and Vince." 

Grant laughs. "Once upon a time, when we were young and cool," he starts.

"Whatever, you're still young and cool," Frank says.

"Flatterer," Grant replies. "Young, at least. We made the acquaintance of a famous musician. "He was doing a tour of the Outer Reaches and was interested in supporting our cause. So the higher-ups decided Vince and I were the right people to send. Perhaps we were."

Gerard chuckles. "You definitely were. He worshipped you, Captain."

"So we went. And there were recreational substances laying about. So we partook," Grant says.

"And how did that go?" Lindsey says, grinning and laying her head on Gerard's shoulder.

Grant laughs. "Well enough for me as I was accustomed to said recreational substances. Vince was… less so. He was three sheets to the wind and feeling no pain. I just tried to make sure he didn't fall down any steps while he was staring at the walls."

"How'd the rock star react?" Frank asks.

"Oh, he thought it was all a great laugh. But Vince still blushes every time anyone brings it up," Grant replies.

"I can't imagine Vince blushing," Frank says.

"Oh, he does," Gerard says gleefully.

"And giggles self-consciously," Grant adds.

"I am familiar with gigglers," Lindsey says. Frank makes a face at her. She makes a face back. "Don't worry, Frankie. You're adorable when you giggle."

He tries to cover his blush by scowling. He's really just marveling at the difference in Lindsey - despite the pain and the drugs, something has eased in her. He's sure Gerard has something to do with it, but he's equally sure that's not all of it.

Grant nudges his arm. "Your laugh is a delight," he says with a smile.

"I...thank you," Frank says. No use hiding the blush now. Neither Lindsey nor Gerard say anything about it, which is a fucking miracle. 

Grant's fingers linger against Frank's arm for a beat longer before he pulls his hand back and takes a bite of food. He makes Frank's heart race. It's not entirely unpleasant. 

He takes a deep breath. "Glad I have more to laugh about now."

"And I hope you continue to do so," Grant murmurs.

"Chances seem pretty good right now," Frank says, meeting Grant's eyes steadily. Grant blinks first. And then he smiles big and brilliant and gorgeous and Frank swallows and smiles back. Heart. Racing. How can he do this? What is he doing? Grant Morrison is a fucking legend and here he is flirting like… Frank doesn't know, but it feels strange. Not strange in a bad way. It feels like his no-grav training, actually. Like he could float away if he doesn't grab hold of something.

He knows this is less than wise. He might not really care. He doesn't really have anything to lose. He already deserted. All he's got is right here on this ship.

Maybe he's got more than he realized. If he can let himself trust it.

Grant takes a few more bites of food and sets down his fork with a small sigh. "I should go meet Chris. I'll see you at dinner, Frank?"

"Would you like company?" Frank asks.

"I would never say no to your company," Grant says with a smile.

"Then you can have it. Maybe Chris will have something he needs me for."

"Maybe I will," Grant mumbles, half-obscured by Lindsey and then Gerard saying goodbye. 

Frank feels like his entire insides want to leap out of his body. He has no idea how to respond or if Grant even means for him to. From the immediate stream of conversation Grant aims at him when they're walking down to the power core, he thinks maybe not. Frank even manages to join the conversation. "Lindsey and Gerard seem pretty cozy," he says.

"Space breeds quick decisions and lack of expectation of personal space," Grant replies.

"Yeah," Frank murmurs. "It's… I'm glad for them."

 

\--

 

"Leela Med Station, this is the Mercury requesting permission to dock," Grant says over the comm.

"Permission granted, Mercury. Do you require emergency transport?"

"A medi-lift for one severely broken leg," Grant replies.

"Technicians will be on their way," the stationmaster responds. "Please have your permits ready for inspection."

"Gerard, we're about to dock," Grant says on the in-ship channel. "I ordered a medi-lift for Lindsey."

"I'll get her ready," Gerard replies. 

Grant makes his way down to the docking bay as Vince pilots the ship into position. He shows the proper permits and directs the medi-lift operators toward the medbay. Gerard gets off the ship with Lindsey, which he was expecting, but he doesn't see Frank, which he was also expecting. Though it is disappointing. He wonders where Frank is, briefly considers trying to find him. But there are things he needs to see to first.

The Med Station has a few amenities for its residents and visiting ships, including the option to refuel. Grant arranges for that and then goes to check on Lindsey.

"They've got her in the chamber already," Gerard informs him. "She'll be another forty-five minutes or so."

"I'm surprised Frank didn't join you," Grant says.

"He wanted to," Gerard replies. "But it wouldn't be smart to get off the ship without an ident he knew he could trust."

Grant spends an hour refueling and trading supplies with the Med Station. He sees various members of his crew disappear into the entertainment wing; he doesn't blame them. As much as they all get along, new vids and fresh food and different faces are irresistible. But Frank doesn't appear. So when Grant is done with the stationmaster, he goes to find him. He's in his bunk reading when Grant finds him.

"I'm sorry you can't join the others," Grant says softly.

Frank shrugs and sits up. "It's okay. I mean, I'd like to, but I'll survive."

"I know people who can make you the best ident out there. I will make it happen," Grant promises.

Frank smiles. "That would be awesome. I'll survive this time. Maybe I'll actually get some reading done." He doesn't sound very enthusiastic about it, though.

"I was going to ask you to have dinner with me… perhaps we can do that anyway? I can order food and we can eat in the observation lounge?" Grant asks. He feels nervous.

"For real?" Frank asks.

"Fresh food. The Leela just got a shipment from the Akota system. Made to order, served by...well, me."

"You'd do that?" Frank asks.

"Of course," Grant replies. "As I said, I meant to ask you to have dinner with me anyway. The location of said dinner is immaterial."

"We eat together almost every day," Frank points out.

"Rations in the mess. So I suppose the location is material, just so long as it's not the mess," Grant replies with a smile. "I just want to do something special with you," he adds, trying to be very clear without startling Frank, as he's afraid might happen.

"Oh," Frank breathes and then smiles gorgeously. "I… that sounds really fucking great."

Grant smiles back. "Let me make arrangements and I'll be back." Fuck, he's nervous. He's done his share of wining and dining, all over the Fringe, men and women who caught his eye at one time or another. But not for a long time. There's something about Frank that speaks to Grant in ways he hasn't experienced for a long time. "Meet me in observation lounge two in an hour?" Grant asks. 

"All right, Captain," Frank says with a smirk. 

Grant wants to kiss that smirk. Perhaps later he'll be allowed. Instead, he rolls his eyes and squeezes Frank's shoulder. "See you soon."

It doesn't take too long to arrange a nice meal for two. It's nothing as elaborate as you'd get planetside but it's still variety. Grant carries the heated to-go boxes back toward Docking Bay Four, where the Mercury is. On the way, he meets Gerard going toward the restaurant.

"Hot date?" Gerard teases.

"Yes," Grant replies easily. "How's Lindsey?"

"She's good! All healed up! Now for the mandatory twenty-four hours of observation and no physical activity while it all sets," Gerard replies with a big grin.

"How disappointing for you," Grant teases.

Gerard makes a face at him. "We'll survive. I'm just glad she's basically there. Just one more day."

"As am I, Gerard," Grant replies. "You'll be staying at the station for the night, I presume?"

"You'll be staying on the ship for the night, I presume?" Gerard asks pertly. 

Grant rolls his eyes. "Me and the rest of the crew, yes. Aren't you lucky you get special dispensation because you're the medic."

"Aren't you lucky you have a private cabin?" Gerard retorts.

Grant laughs. "Not everyone moves as fast as you, my friend. And I don't mean that as censure. We shall see." 

Grant has a feeling things will be moving very slowly indeed. He can be patient. Mostly because he also has a feeling that his patience will be rewarded. 

"Have a good evening, Gerard," Grant says.

"You too, Grant." 

Grant can see Frank's messy head poking up over the back of a couch in the lounge when he opens the door. His hair is rapidly growing out of its military buzz and delightfully unruly. Grant smiles and closes the door, engaging the privacy light.

Frank sits up straight and looks back at Grant. "Hi," he says with a smile on his face.

"Dinner," Grant replies cheerfully. "And a bottle of icewine somewhere in this tote."

Frank gets up and helps Grant set everything out on the coffee table. "Wow, this looks amazing."

"It does." He's not looking at the food.

Frank looks up at Grant and smiles again. "I didn't… thank you. For. I don't know. Everything, I guess."

"I am happy to do it. Every last thing." He reaches out to touch Frank's wrist. "Drink?"

"Please," Frank replies. 

Grant doesn't have proper wine glasses. They just don't make sense in space, but that just makes this feel kind of like a picnic. It's been eons since Grant had one of those. Sipping his wine, he allows himself a brief fantasy of lying down with Frank in a grassy field somewhere before picking up a plate and serving himself. 

Frank starts eating as well. They fill the pauses with talk about music. It's a topic Grant has discovered that Frank always has something to say about. Grant knows without a doubt that had there not been a war, Frank would have become a musician. He doesn't act like he's sorry about it. It makes Grant sad. The generation after his has never known anything different. He hopes fervently that they'll get the opportunity to live, to experience something other than the war.

Frank's thoughts are clearly running along similar lines because he asks, "You've said you write. Is that what you'd do? If you weren't Captain Grant Morrison?"

"Maybe. Just get a little house somewhere quiet, go into town every once in a while for supplies." Grant can picture it. He might even manage to not be lonely.

"That sounds nice," Frank says wistfully. "I thought I wanted to get out. To go somewhere and do something. I… maybe if the something I got out and did had been different…"

"Maybe," Grant says gently. He reaches out and touches Frank's wrist again, "I'm glad we've met, though. And perhaps that would never have happened otherwise." He's a sentimental fool at the end of the day. Frank may as well know it now.

"Guess there's no way to go back in time and find out." Frank smiles and takes a long drink.

"No, there isn't," Grant says and takes his own drink of wine.

"Grant -" Frank says after a moment. It's as if Grant blinked and all of a sudden Frank is several feet closer than he was. Grant sets his glass down and reaches out to cup Frank's cheek.

"Frank, I don't want to presume." He takes a deep breath.

"I want you to kiss me," Frank says. "How's that?" He doesn't actually wait for an answer, just moves in, wine-red lips touching Grant's. 

Grant returns the kiss, and slides his hand from Frank's cheek up into his hair. It's so fucking good to kiss someone again, to feel Frank so close. He sighs into Frank's mouth, letting his other hand settle onto Frank's hip. Frank is warm - so warm, and his mouth is soft and sinful. 

One of Frank's hands wraps around the back of Grant's neck and he snakes his other arm around Grant's waist. Yes, he could do this for a long time. They kiss for a while; Grant's not sure how long, just that he ends up with Frank in his lap and his entire body thrumming.

Grant sighs against Frank's lips when an alert sounds from the comm; crewmembers are returning to the ship. Perhaps he should have taken Frank to his quarters. Regardless, Jon will be reporting to him soon about supply requisitions.

"Saved by the bell," Frank jokes.

"More like interrupted by the bell," Grant replies.

"I should go," Frank replies. "Let you do what you need to do." He doesn't sound happy about it, but he doesn't sound incredibly disappointed either. So. Slow. Grant can do that. He leans in for one last kiss. It's a sweet one.

"Till next time," Grant says with a little smile.

"Hope it's soon." Grant moves to pick up the trays, but Frank stops him. "I'll take care of it. You go do what you need to."

"As long as we both understand that what I need to do is not what I want to do," Grant murmurs.

"Understood," Frank replies with a smile. Grant reaches out and squeezes Frank's hand before disengaging the privacy light and going to the bridge. Yes, this will be good. He can feel it in his bones.

 

\--

 

Lindsey sits on her bunk at the Med Station, kicking her feet - that in itself is a novelty after a week of stasis - and waits for Gerard to finish her discharge forms. She's been told to do some special exercises and try not to do anything like climbing a rock wall or running ten miles at first, but she's healed enough for regular activities. And it'll definitely be nice to be able to move around the ship and not be stuck waiting for people to come to her.

Gerard comes back in and smiles at her and - yeah, there are a few other things on her list, too.

"You're good to go," he says. When she gets up, she steps into his space and he automatically wraps his arms around her. They're pretty much exactly the same height, so she can look directly into his eyes.

"Lead the way, Doc," she murmurs.

He slides his hands up her back and leans in to kiss her softly on the cheek. "I'm really glad you're on your feet now."

"Not as glad as I am," Lindsey replies. She wants to kiss him, but he probably has the right idea. This isn't the place to start something. She takes his hand instead and tugs him out of the ward.

They're stopped at a checkpoint, but get by quickly and board the Mercury. "Let Grant know we're here and ready to go," Gerard tells the kid in the docking bay.

"Sure, Gee," the girl replies and taps her earpiece.

They hear and feel the ship pull away from the dock and Lindsey takes a deep breath. The Med Stations are neutral territory and there are interstellar laws governing them, but Lindsey always feels better when there's no chance of randomly bumping into a crew of Core soldiers. Core soldiers tend to ignore those kinds of things when there are warrants and stolen weapons tech involved. And that's just her. She's pretty sure capturing the Mercury would set any Core commander for life. 

No one on the Mercury seems likely to go down without a fight, though.

"Gerard," she asks, "can I finally get a tour?"

He grins. "Of course." He takes her in the opposite direction of the medbay and she's almost surprised at how relieved she is to not go back there. She has the best thing about the medbay with her. And she's holding his hand.

He takes her to the mess first because it's nearly lunch and everyone will be coming through soon. She suddenly realizes with a slight pang that she won't be having lunch in the medbay with Frank every day anymore, but she supposes they can just continue the tradition here. 

The room is still fairly deserted when they get there, but the petite redheaded quartermaster waves them over. "Hey, Becky," Gerard says. "Off duty?"

"Yep. Took an early shift on the bridge. Eating something then taking a fucking nap. But hey, look who's here on her own two feet," Becky says enthusiastically.

Lindsey takes a bow. "I walk, I talk, I can even fly a spaceship."

"Does that mean you want to be put on the duty roster? Because we can accommodate that," Becky says with a big grin.

"Show me a dotted line to sign on," Lindsey says easily. She's serious, though.

"You'll have to talk to Grant for that, really, but it will be awesome to get another pair of hands. Especially if you're anything like Frankie," Becky says.

"Frankie is one of a kind. But so am I."

"I can tell that just by looking at some of your sketches," Becky says. "You're amazing."

Lindsey smiles. "Thanks." She goes to fill her tray. She returns laden with food and sits down next to Gerard, across from Becky. It'll be really nice to be on a crew with another woman, she thinks. It's been a while. 

Gerard chatters happily at both of them. Lindsey spends half the meal just smiling. About halfway through, Frank plops down on her other side. "You're free," he says and starts eating his food.

"Roaming about the ship unrestrained," she agrees. "What are you up to, Frankie?"

"More weapons system upgrades today," Frank replies. "Mostly just making everything they've already got work better with some simple tweaks."

"We can go down there next," Gerard offers. "So you can check things out."

"That would be fun," Lindsey replies. "I'd like to see the whole set-up, for sure." She sees Frank and Becky exchange amused looks, but she doesn't care. She elbows Frank. "So where's the captain? I should probably speak with him soon as well."

"No idea," Frank replies promptly.

Becky gives him a look. "Maybe you don't know now, but you definitely had breakfast with him this morning."

"Well. Yeah," Frank says. Lindsey thinks he's blushing. 

Lindsey knew there was something going on between Frank and the captain, of course she did, but now that she's seeing evidence of it without any pain or drugs in her system, she feels both fiercely protective of Frank and pleased for him. She's not going to tease him, because she knows how protective he is of his personal life. It had been an embarrassing day for both of them when she'd been forced to ask about the exact nature of his relationship with Mike, though in that case it had been necessary. 

She thinks maybe she could get away with it now without him getting angry and brooding at her, but she thinks she'll just be supportive. Let the others tease. 

"When you see him, tell him I'm looking for him," she says with a smile. "Either of you." She doesn't miss the grateful look he gives her. She thinks maybe Frank himself is a little unsure of things.

"Will do," Becky says cheerfully.

Frank hurries through the rest of his lunch so that he can walk back down to the weapons core with them. "I know their systems pretty well now," Frank tells her. "And after we have some fun with space debris, it'll be even better. I'm about half there with the engine room, but I'm sure this girl has some tricks up her sleeve."

"I'd count on it," Lindsey says.

Jon is already working on the weapons array board, and he says hello before going back to firing directions at another crewmember down in a maintenance hatch. Lindsey recognizes the girl from the docking bay. "I had to borrow Frances to climb down there," Jon says to Frank. "Now you're here and you can take over."

Frank nods and Frances comes back out of the hatch; Frank gives her a fake tip of the hat and crawls in. "Hi, we weren't properly introduced," Frances says, shooting a look at Gerard. "I'm Frances. The baby of the ship, so they like to remind me."

"Gerard, you're terrible," Lindsey teases him. "You have two ladies on board. That's a total selling point. What do you do, Frances?"

"Whatever they ask, mostly," she replies. "If I were in university, this would probably be an internship. Everyone is teaching me a little of everything. Even rude boy here."

"Frances is gonna take over her family business some day. She's learning the ropes." Jon tosses her a data drive. "Run that up to Vince, will you?"

"Sure thing, Big J," she replies and then punches Gerard lightly on the arm. "See you, Lindsey."

"Family business?" she asks once Frances is gone. When Gerard tells her what it is, Lindsey whistles. "Fuck, this ship had better never get captured."

"That's the goal," Jon says. "So far, so good."

"She's a good kid," Gerard says. "Not quite what you expect, which just makes her more awesome. Sorry I didn't introduce her," he says. "I didn't want to totally overwhelm you. You still need to meet a couple people."

"Well, lead the way," Lindsey says, linking their arms. 

He takes her down to the engine room and introduces her to Chris, who cracks about ten jokes in five minutes; a good quarter of them are borderline offensive. He seems to know his stuff, though, and she's spent too much time in spaceports to be easily offended.

Gerard leads her up to the bridge after that. When Grant spots them, he grins wide. "I was just about to come find you."

"Heard you were hiring," Lindsey says.

"There is little that could make me happier," Grant replies, grin widening.

"I… if my ship is still intact, I reserve the right to reevaluate, but for now, just tell me what you need and I'll do it," she says.

"You can help my communications officer trace the scrambled ID beacons of the junkers," Grant says.

She glances at Gerard and then smiles at Grant. "I think I can handle that." She's never seen Gerard do the other half of his job.

"We do have a pit stop of our own ship business to attend to before we can go after them, but it's on the way," Grant assures her.

Lindsey nods. "Understood. Put me on the duty roster?"

"Starting tomorrow," Grant says firmly.

"Fine, fine," she says with a smile. "Make me follow the doctor's orders to the letter, why don't you."

He laughs. "I'm terrible."

She smiles. "Truly. I suppose I can come up with a few ways to occupy myself that don't involve work for the day."

"Gerard can help," Grant says. "His next shift isn't until tomorrow." He somehow manages not to make it suggestive, but that's where Lindsey's mind goes anyway. 

Gerard squeezes her hand and she squeezes back."Excellent. I'll make him finish showing me the ship, then." 

He takes her back down to the med bay. 

"Really?" she laughs. "I've seen this."

"Yeah, but my quarters are through that door," he says and points. "And you've pretty much seen everywhere else. At least, everywhere you need to see for the time being."

"You get private quarters?" she asks.

"Did I fail to mention that?" he laughs. "That's the dubious perk of pulling double duty as ship's medic. I mean, I can show you to your bunk if you want," Gerard looks wide-eyed and innocent.

"Yeah, that won't be necessary," Lindsey tells him, walking through the door. He's right on her heels, engaging the privacy seal and smiling like he's not really aware he's doing it. She grabs him and pulls him close. He doesn't resist, just keeps smiling until she presses her lips to hers. "Gerard," she says. "Please touch me."

 

\--

 

Gerard shivers at Lindsey's tone and does as she asks. He puts his hands on her hips and slides them under her shirt to stroke over the soft skin of her sides. He's been thinking about this sort of a lot, but it's still hard to believe. He kisses her, wraps his arms around her and holds her close. She melts against him and fuck, she feels good.

"You're so amazing," he tells her, nosing up under her jaw.

She rubs her hands up and down his back. "Fuck, I've been wanting this," she whispers in his ear. "It was really fucking tough to sit still for that long. Do you know how gorgeous you are?" Lindsey asks.

"Um," he says.

"Of course you do," she laughs and tugs his shirt up. "Fuck, I need your skin."

He lets her do what she wants. She doesn't seem to have any indecisiveness in her at all, not about this. She pulls his shirt over his head and then her own, and then her bra is gone before he can blink. 

"Fuck," he says and slides his hands up to cup her tits. "You're the gorgeous one," he tells her.

She sucks in a sharp breath as he runs his thumbs over her nipples and leans in to kiss her again. Fuck, he wants to fuck her, eat her out, anything as long he's touching her. She settles her hands on his waist again, pulling him closer. 

He could probably stand here and kiss her forever, too.

"Gerard," she murmurs against his lips. "Want you."

"What do you want? What do you like? Lin...." He hasn't had this in forever.

"More than we can possibly do in a single day," she replies breathlessly.

"Okay, then where do you want to start?" he asks.

"How about naked on the bed with your mouth on my tits?" she replies.

"Yeah," he breathes.

"I really like that. For future reference," she teases, shimmying out of her trousers and stepping out of them and her boots with some difficulty. He still thinks she's perfect.

"I will definitely keep that in mind," he replies as he unbuckles his belt, pulls off his own boots, and shoves down his pants and underwear.

Lindsey practically purrs when she gets a look at him. "I know I keep saying it but fuck, you're pretty," she murmurs, trailing her fingers down his hip. He smiles and tugs her panties down until they fall to the floor and she kicks them off. He backs her up to the bed and she gets on the bed and leans back against the pillows.

It's just a small bunk, but fuck, it's never looked so inviting. He crawls in after her and skims hands up her stomach, nuzzles between her breasts and she slides her fingers into his hair. "So fucking gorgeous," he murmurs and licks up and over the curve of her breast and sucks one of her nipples into his mouth.

She hums and pushes up into it a little and he teases her nipple with his tongue, then sucks again, letting one hand drift back down across her stomach. "Gerard," she whispers and her hands drift down to stroke his shoulders and back and then slide back into his hair. He slides his fingers down further, teasing over the soft skin below her belly button. "Do it," she urges softly, and he gives in and slides down to press his face between her thighs. 

She moans when he licks softly over her clit. Fuck, he loves this. He slips his tongue down and fucks into her with it and she pulls his hair. It's his turn to moan against her.

"You like that, Doc?" she whispers.

"Yes," he gasps and wraps his lips around her clit and starts sucking. The only downside to this is it's hard to watch her while he sucks her. But he has her hands carding and tugging at his hair, her moans and soft exclamations, and that's good enough for now.

He flattens his tongue and licks over her clit and down into her again. Her hips twitch up against him and he starts sucking again. He keeps his hands on her hips and holds, holds her steady. Lindsey was right when she said there was too much to do to fit into one day, because he's pretty sure he could do this until his jaw aches. But she hauls in a deep breath and her fingers clench in his hair and he knows she's close to coming. He keeps sucking, licking until she starts shaking, until she moans loud and pulls his hair hard and comes against his mouth.

He hums against her thigh and kisses his way back up to her breasts and throat. She tugs his hair until his lips meet hers and they kiss and kiss. She runs a hand down his back to cup his ass and spreads her legs wider. He settles into the V of her legs and fuck, he needs to be inside her. "Lindsey -" he mutters against her throat.

"No more waiting," she murmurs back. He moans against her neck and braces himself above her. "Gee, do it."

He wraps a hand around his cock, positions himself, and slowly, slowly thrusts inside. She reaches down to cup his ass as he thrusts slowly, urging him to go faster, deeper, and Gerard catches her lips again. He tries to keep his thrusts at least somewhat slow. She feels so goddamn good, he could come way too soon if he didn't. "Fuck," he moans against her lips when she clenches around him.

"Roll over," she whispers, wrapping around him, and he obeys as best he can, getting their positions reversed, and yeah, he can see her face better now; he likes this. 

She rolls her hips and leans down to kiss him. "You feel even better than I imagined," she murmurs against his lips.

"Did you do a lot of imagining?" he pants. It's harder to hold on with her setting her own pace, but he focuses on her as best he can. He wants to watch her come before he does.

"So fucking much. I had a lot of time to lay there doing nothing," she replies. "I couldn't even jerk off properly."

He makes an incoherent noise. "Fuck."

She smiles and grinds down again. "Wanna see?" He licks his lips and watches as she slides her hand down her stomach. She starts rubbing fast and hard. "If I were just jerking off, I'd start slow," she tells him. "But I'm so fucking ready, Gee."

"Lindsey. Fuck." He licks his lips again, watching her breasts sway and feeling the brush of her fingers. And fuck, she's so wet. He squeezes her hips in his hands and bites his lip. He feels her start to come, feels her cunt start to pulse around him, and she moans loud, deep in the back of her throat.

He shudders and thrusts up, out of control now but not caring. She keeps whimpering and moves with him. He tugs her down against him, face buried in her neck, and thrusts one last time and comes harder than he has in ages.

Gerard swears in a couple different languages as soon as he can catch his breath, and he can feel Lindsey chuckle. "Same," she murmurs in his ear. "Fuck, Gee."

"Yeah," he whispers and cups her cheek. He wants to ask her to stay, right now. Never mind her ship. But he holds back. He always moves too fast and it always bites him in the ass at some point. Maybe being forced to wait a little bit was good for him.

She shifts and pulls off him and he gasps. She walks over to his small en-suite to clean up and comes back and settles against his side with a happy sigh. "I'm staying," she declares against his shoulder.

"I can set the room controls to wake us up for first shift, but what about dinner?" he asks.

She nuzzles and asks, "Can we come back here after?"

"Yeah," he breathes. "Of course. If it were up to me we'd -" he stops himself.

She strokes her hand over his chest. "If it makes you feel better, I'm pretty sure I agree with whatever you were about to say."

"- Never leave this bed?" Gerard finishes.

"Among other things," she replies and kisses his shoulder.

"Okay," he whispers and tightens his arm around her.

They sleep for a while and when he wakes up, she's sitting up, thumbing through his sketch pad. Which… has a lot of drawings of her in it. "You're such a creeper," she says when she sees he's awake. She sounds delighted.

He laughs, croaky and too loud, and rolls over to bury his face in her side. "I couldn't not draw you."

"You know that excuse only works on another artist."

"Aren't I lucky?" he says, kissing her stomach. She leans back against the pillows and he rolls on top of her. "Time is it?" he murmurs.

"Time for you to fuck me again before we go to dinner."

"I think that's my favorite time," Gerard replies.

"Me fucking too," she replies and wraps her legs around his waist.

 

\--

 

Gerard and Lindsey are revolting at dinner that night. Frank is sort of ridiculously happy for them. He sees Grant watching approvingly too, but he disappears back to the bridge as soon as he grabs food, and Frank is so tired from crawling around in the maintenance hatches that he heads straight for his bunk. It's a little anticlimactic. 

He supposes they'll have breakfast together tomorrow as usual. Frank just… he's really not sure what to do with all this. He definitely liked kissing Grant, though. He suspects this is all part of some slow-motion courtship. That seems to be going around the ship. The slow-motion part doesn't bother him too much, not really. He'd like to kiss Grant more, but they'll have time for that. Hopefully when he's not exhausted.

He sleeps. Actually, he sleeps really well and wakes up feeling better than he has in weeks. That doesn't mean he doesn't go straight for the coffee when he gets to the mess. He realizes when he sees Lindsey, dressed for work and chatting with Vince, that part of the reason he's been so restless was because he was worried about her. She looks happy, though. And her leg is totally fine. And when Gerard sits down next to her, she lights the fuck up.

Of course, not worrying about her means more time to worry about himself. Which. He's not particularly ready to do. He's spent quite a bit of time actively avoiding doing that.

Becky and Jon both appear while he's still sucking down coffee and they literally draw straws for who gets to take the reins for the weapons tests, even though they won't be within range of the debris field for an hour or more. Frank wins, which he is totally smug about. The other two take it in good humor, so it's all good. And when Jon moves down the bench and lets Grant slide in beside Frank, it's better. 

Frank knows Grant's actually coming off-shift, which is sort of disappointing, until he asks about the test run. Grant grins big. "Wouldn't miss it. We don't get to blow things up for fun very often." 

He looks tired, though, and drinks a single cup of tea. Frank breathes in and takes his hand under the table. Grant gives him a look that's part grateful, part fond, and squeezes back.

Unsurprisingly, most of the crew turns out for the test, either in the weapons bay or on the bridge. Frank takes his place at the weapons systems control board and Jon takes the helm.  
"Wanna test your prowess at firing on target while the ship is moving all crazy-like?" he asks with a challenging grin.

"I can vouch for it," Lindsey says from the comm array.

"Then we should definitely see it in action," Becky says.

Frank shrugs. "Bring it on." 

Internal gyros can only do so much to stabilize the ride that follows. Jon is a fucking good pilot, but Frank is good too and he doesn't miss a single shot. And when he hits the small fuel cell on the dead shuttle they're firing at, there is a fucking satisfying bit of pyrotechnics.

"I think we fixed it," Becky deadpans. Frank grins and Grant pats his shoulder.

"He's a better shot than me, boss," Jon tells Grant.

"He's a keeper." Grant still has his hand on Frank's shoulder.

"Damn straight, he is," Lindsey says proudly. This, Frank thinks, is what it must be like to have a sister.

The crew scatters when it becomes apparent they won't be blowing anything else up, and Frank follows Jon back down to the hold. "You really are better than me," Jon says. "So you get to be the one shooting when it gets crazy from now on."

"Are we expecting that?" Frank asks, even knowing that as a Fringe privateer they should always be expecting it.

"We're doing something now that could put us in the path of all the wrong people," Jon says with a shrug. 

He gets pinged on the intercom at the end of his shift. "Frank, can you come by the lounge for a moment?" Grant asks.

"Be there in five," Frank replies; he puts away all his stuff and makes sure it's neat for whoever might need to use the station next and heads up. 

He finds the privacy controls in place on the lounge and his stomach does stupid shit as he pushes the button to let Grant know he's there. The door slides open and Frank is greeted by a smiling Grant. Frank smiles back. He can't help it.

"Hi," he says.

"I hope you don't mind this," Grant replies, reaching out to cup his face.

"Can't think of a single reason to object," Frank replies and steps closer, snaking his arms around Grant's waist. Grant leans down to kiss him slowly, gently. Relentlessly. Frank can barely think. Grant's lips and teeth and tongue drive the thoughts out of his head. 

Fuck, it's good. They're not really trying to hide, but it still feels secret, in a good way. Frank is definitely starting to get really fucking turned on, and he's contemplating suggesting that maybe they could move this elsewhere, when the ship's alarms start blaring. Grant swears, and instantly goes into motion, tugging Frank with him to the bridge. 

"Vince, report," Grant orders.

"A military cruiser heading straight for us, sir; its weapons are all primed," Vince replies.

"Frank, take the weapons console," Grant orders. Frank nods, jaw tight. 

Crew members spill onto the bridge and fill the consoles. Gerard appears and starts punching comm channels. "They're coming in fast, Grant," he says.

"Give them the old song and dance anyway," Grant tells him.

"Core Cruiser, we are a research vessel with important equipment onboard. Please stand down," Gerard says into the comm. 

The cruiser blasts back a demand for identification.

"We are the Science Vessel Crateris, Core Registration Number X5734," Gerard says.

The person at the other end actually laughs. "Mercury, you're so full of shit."

"Frank," Grant murmurs. "As soon as they fire, you have permission to do whatever you like."

Frank is already eyeing the cruiser, pulling up specs and tagging weak spots on the projection. Their first shot is a fucking torpedo, which is overkill. He just laughs as Becky maneuvers easily out of the way. Frank targets their shield generators and fires off the BAL. Fuck them, he's gonna do this elegantly.

"We don't scare easy," he hums, keeping the laser burst controlled. Accuracy holds true; those tests today were right on. He keeps going, taking out their weapons, then their propulsion, communication, until the only thing left is life support. "Your call," Frank tells Grant.

"Find us a shortcut and get us going, Vince," Grant replies.

"Right, boss," Vince replies and lays in their route and takes then away from the damaged core cruiser at top speed.

"All right, as you were," Grant says after a while when pursuit doesn't appear and they're back in hyperdrive. Frank breathes out and powers down the weapons. "Damage report?" Grant asks.

"Hardly anything," Vince replies. "It's unlikely that we'll be so lucky next time."

"We need a new ident," Gerard says. "It's no fun when I can't fool them into thinking we're the good guys for a few minutes."

"We already have to go see Karen, for Frank," Grant says.

"True. I mean, the fake ship idents never last long, but it's an extra minute or two for a few skirmishes," Gerard says. 

Grant turns to Frank. "You were going off watch, weren't you?" 

Frank nods. He's suddenly very, very tired.

"See you at breakfast, then," Grant murmurs. 

Frank nods again. He'd like to kiss Grant goodnight, but they're on the bridge, so he probably shouldn't. "Breakfast."

 

\--

 

The sort of skirmish that just happened is fairly routine for them, but Grant's heart is thudding anyway. They rarely come out on the bad end of these encounters, but Grant can never stop the worry. Frank's command of the weapons systems and the elegance with which he took out the Core cruiser was truly something to behold, though.

He needs to get their shifts synced, though, because if they can't count on staying out of skirmishes, they'll have to find some other time together. And by all the stars and gods, he would like to spend time with Frank. Not just the sort of time that allows them to kiss, either. But the sort where Grant would be perfectly happy sitting near him and talking. Or both. But as long as they have a mission to complete, he can't afford to take them too far off the beaten path.

Grant was only taking a break to, well, accost Frank in the lounge; he sits in his chair and does a few scans. He's got a few more hours yet. And then he can sleep for a few more hours and go to breakfast.

He and Chris discuss the scans, and when it's finally time to head for his cabin, he's exhausted. He sets the alarm for too few hours later and falls asleep immediately. 

The only thing that gets him out of bed when the alarm sounds is the thought of breakfast with Frank. When he gets to the mess, Frank actually has his breakfast waiting, which is incredibly sweet.

"Hi," Frank says and smiles up at him. Grant slides onto the bench next to him and decides to just say fuck it; he leans in to kiss Frank's cheek. It's not as if the crew doesn't know anyway. They're smart people. "Have a good nap?" Frank asks.

"Could have been longer, or less solitary," Grant replies.

Frank squeezes his knee. "I really fucking like sharing naps. For the record."

"I'll key you into the door, you can join me whenever you want," Grant murmurs. Frank smiles at him. Getting out of bed was absolutely worth it for Frank's smile.

"I'd offer the same," he says, "but I don't think my bunk would fit us both very well." Grant takes a sip of his coffee and looks around the mess. There are a lot of smirks. Frank seems to notice too and makes a face, but he also moves a little closer to Grant on the bench. "You'll have time to sleep more later, right?" he asks. "Because you look fucking wrecked."

"I hope so," Grant says. "These next few days will be -" he doesn't want to worry Frank.

"Can we expect more of what happened yesterday?" Frank asks.

Grant nods tiredly. "We have to make a rendezvous in the Ventrice system before we head back to the Alliance base."

"That'll do it," Frank murmurs. "You know where to find me if you need me. Weapons or whatever else. Don't hesitate."

"Same here," Grant replies.

"Okay," Frank agrees and Grant feels a little lighter. Every single member of his crew would probably say similar, but it's rather nice to have an extra layer of meaning and intent there. And gods, he wants that extra layer. He leans in and catches the corner of Frank's mouth with his. Just because he can. Frank sighs and leans into him for a moment. 

They turn back to their breakfast and chat about the sorts of breakfasts they remember most fondly from boyhood. A part of Grant loves the firefights, but another part loves the moments like these. He and Frank grew up in different decades, Frank in the Core, Grant in the Outer Reaches. There are a lot of differences between them, but also a lot of common ground and Grant is having fun discovering it all.

"You seem relaxed," Vince says when they're alone on the bridge later that day. That takes Grant by surprise because he is also worried, and he is doing his level best to ensure this mission is successful. But Vince is right.

"I suppose I am," he replies.

"You're better when you're relaxed. More focused," Vince says.

Grant nods. "It's… I forgot how much I like… having someone. Not that. It's new. But the possibilities are… welcome."

Vince just smiles at him. They're good at communicating even when neither of them have all the words. 

Later, perhaps he'll see if he can coordinate Frank's lunch break and his own break. He'll probably fall asleep on Frank, but that wouldn't be all bad. In fact, it sounds pretty good. He sends a private message to Frank who agrees to grab his lunch and meet Grant at his quarters later. 

Frank is grimy when he shows up, and apologizes immediately. "Sorry, your fucking crew likes to make me crawl into all the access tunnels."

"It used to be Becky, but she outranks you," Grant says straight-faced. Frank makes a face at him and deliberately slides his dirty hands over Grant's jaw and neck and cups the back of his head. Grant laughs and leans in to kiss him. "Not scared of a little dirt," he murmurs.

"Good," Frank replies and leans in for another kiss.

Grant grabs Frank's lunch tray and tugs him toward the bed, and they sit. "You should eat."

"Talk to me while I do," Frank says. Grant leans against the pillows and Frank leans back against him and starts in on his sandwich.

"Any preferred topic?"

"How'd you meet Vince?" Frank asks.

"We grew up in the same city," Grant tells him.

"And?" Frank asks.

"Before we joined the resistance, I met him through the artistic community. At some party thrown by a mutual friend," Grant replies.

"Sounds like a good time," Frank says wistfully.

Grant runs a hand through his hair. "It was. The lack of draft in the colonies gave us a little more freedom. And then the Core tightened the noose and we joined anyway."

"Were you always on the same ship?"

"Off and on," Grant says. "And then got my own ship and I hired him on immediately."

Frank nods, taking the last bite of his sandwich and immediately getting up to throw the container in the incinerator. When he gets back on the bed, he cuddles into Grant's arms. "You should sleep," he murmurs.

"You sure?" Grant asks. "You don't have much time."

"I don't mind," Frank insists. 

Grant nods and closes his eyes. He's comfortable and feeling unbelievably content with Frank in his arms. Frank kisses his cheek and tucks his face against his neck. "Computer, sound an alarm for 1400," Grant murmurs. There's a confirmation beep and Grant lets himself nod into sleep.

 

\--

 

Lindsey has been on the bridge all day. It was Vince's day off and she took first officer duties. It's been good to get to know the ship and the bridge crew, but when she gets off duty, she's definitely ready for a break. 

Her feet lead her pretty definitively to the med bay. Not that that's particularly surprising. Gerard's been working back there all day. Since the skirmish, he's been making sure everything is organized and that they're prepared to deal with casualties. They're flying through enemy space now.

He's making notes on a data pad. She slips in behind him and links her arms around his waist. 

"Oh!" he says and leans back against her.

"So, dinner is soon and I'm starving, but I missed you all day and I really want to blow you," she murmurs in his ear.

"Oh," he says again. "I... Were you expecting an argument?"

She laughs. "Not really. Just wanted to let you know."

He turns in her arms and leans his hips against the counter. "I am informed. Proceed however you fucking like."

Lindsey sinks to her knees, grinning up at him. He can't take his eyes off of her, and she likes that. She slides her hands under his shirt and runs her fingers over the soft skin of his belly before going for his belt. 

Gerard makes a soft noise and braces his feet a bit farther apart. Lindsey works his belt and trousers open just enough to reach inside. His cock is already getting hard and she gets his briefs down enough so she can get him in her mouth. She wants to feel him finish getting hard against her tongue. 

His noises get a bit louder when she closes her lips around him, pressing lightly with her tongue. Lindsey would tell him how it tasted, how it felt, if she could. Luckily he has no problem filling the silence.

"Fuck, Lindsey," he gasps. "Been thinking about you all fucking day. Kept hoping we could find time… this works, though. Oh fuck, do that again."

She sucks at the crown of his cock again, kneading at the soft flesh of his thighs through his trousers. She shifts a hand to cup his balls through his briefs. Fuck, she's wet. Maybe she can spare a hand to - She reaches down to quickly unbutton her own trousers and slide a hand in to start stroking her clit. She moans around his cock and gently slides her fingers over his balls, slides her tongue around the head of his cock and then goes down further, making him moan as she sucks.

He moves a hand; he doesn't grab her hair, just slips his fingers through it and cups her cheek, pressing gently until she's sure he can feel her tongue working him. She can taste him now and she knows he's getting close. She strokes herself harder and moans around him. She's been holding him very carefully still against the counter, but now she loosens her grip and lets him thrust forward into her mouth.

She thrusts her fingers back and fucks herself with them a few times. Tonight, she's going to make him fuck her again. For now, him fucking her mouth is pretty damn good.

He whimpers. Lindsey feels him start to come and pulls back a little, just keeping the head in her mouth. She swallows down every drop. She's about to come herself when he tugs her up and shoves a hand down her pants. It's her turn to whine, because his hands are unreal. Strong, knowing. He gives her a few good strokes and she's coming hard, moaning against his throat. 

"Gee," she gasps.

"So glad you came to visit," he mumbles against her temple.

"Me fucking too," she replies. "Now let's go get dinner before I die of hunger."

He laughs. "At your service, Linds."

Dinner is mostly taken up by discussion of their prep for flying through enemy territory. Lindsey is pretty accustomed to such travel, but she's usually on a ship with significantly fewer weapons. Grant and company seem to have plans for every contingency. She knows that's still no guarantee. But prepared for most things is better than nothing and she likes the way they operate. 

She feels a little at loose ends, but there's always somewhere to chip in on a starship, so she tries not to think about it much. She likes Grant, but she's pretty sure most of his officers got where they were through an extended audition. Which is fine. That's how she'd do it if she had a ship like this. Maybe she needs to just make her own position here.

The next day, Becky picks up a couple of ships on their long-range sensors. "Not friendlies. And bang in between us and the rendezvous."

"Here we go," Grant murmurs. "Gerard, open a ship-wide channel." Gerard does and Grant makes an announcement. "We're heading straight toward two enemy ships. Prepare for a fight."

Lindsey hears Jon, Becky, and Frank reply from the weapons station. She tucks in next to Vince and the star maps he has pulled up on the nav screen. "We're heading right into the mouth of the lion," Lindsey observes when she sees exactly where they are.

"Lion ought to watch out," Grant murmurs.

"Damn straight," Lindsey returns. He smiles at her.

His smile dies when Gerard calls out the designations of the ships approaching. "Fuck," Gerard says. "And... there's an Alliance distress signal. Grant, it's the Knife." Gerard's gone utterly pale and his voice shakes.

"Establish contact if you can, we're about to take fire," Grant says tightly.

There must be someone important to Gerard on the Knife.

"There's nothing," Gerard says after a second. "Wait. The distress call has changed to an another Alliance frequency. They say they've been boarded. Fuck."

Lindsey sees only a split second of indecision on Grant's face before he snaps out, "Chris, Becky, Lindsey, prep the interceptor and get out there. We'll draw off the forward ship."

The three of them leave the bridge and hurry down to the shuttle bay. Mercury's interceptor is slightly smaller than a shuttle like the Kraken, perfect for this kind of mission. Becky quickly taps in her access code and opens a weapons locker. They each grab their preferred implements and pull on their suits. Life support on the other ship is currently stable, but that could change at any moment.

"Crew count?" Lindsey doesn't know how many crewmembers the Knife carries, but she's sure Grant would have sent them in the larger ship if they potentially needed the capacity.

"The Knife usually has five. They could take more, but Brian likes to keep things simple and five is all they need to run the ship," Becky says. "We only got a feed for three life signs."

Lindsey grimaces. That's never the news anyone wants to hear.

Becky takes the helm and they head for the ship. "Torpedo coming in on the starboard side," Chris says.

"I see it," she says. She keeps an eye on the radar and does a pretty spectacular dodge move. The Mercury maneuvers between them and the other ships; Becky pushes the throttle and they dock with the Knife.

The three of them turn on their shields and get out of the interceptor. "Life signs are down in the cargo hold," Chris murmurs.

Lindsey pulls her blaster, but with Gerard in her ears, passing along Vince's scan data, she exercises the appropriate amount of caution. "The cargo hold is below your current position," Gerard says. Lindsey can hear the strain in his voice. "Hostiles will be watching the main entrances, but there's a locked access tube to your left that Chris should be able to hack easily." 

"Copy," Chris murmurs.

"If he's here, we'll get him out, Gee," Becky says as Chris puts a small piece of equipment in the access tube door and keys in a few commands.

A blaster shot wings past Chris's head as soon as he opens the access door. "Shit," Lindsey says and fires back before taking cover. The shots are only coming from one spot; she hopes that means they couldn't send a backup boarding party before the Mercury drove the enemy ship away.

Chris indicates that he's going to sneak through the cargo toward the hostiles. Lindsey goes the other way and Becky holds the position in front of the access tube. Shots keep firing in vaguely their direction. Lindsey wonders if the friendlies are hanging on. She hopes so.

She circles around behind a stack of crates and gets a glimpse of the shooter, a body slumped behind him. Dead or too injured to shoot, then. She doesn't have a good shot yet. She scans for Chris. He's still behind some crates, apparently, and she hears him take out one of the hostiles from his position. Lindsey creeps forward. Becky keeps firing shots from her position, which definitely has the remaining shooter's attention. Lindsey finally gets a clear shot and she takes it. The shooter drops. She doesn't feel any regret anymore. Just the grim satisfaction of meeting an objective.

"There's still one person alive with you guys down there," Gerard tells them. "Be careful." Lindsey steps forward and checks the person with their shooter. Dead. Just then, a man crawls out inside one of the crates.

"Brian," Chris says, "It's really fucking good to see you." Lindsey can hear Gerard exhale loudly over the open comms.

Brian rubs his forehead and she notices he's kind of covered in blood. "Are you injured?" she asks.

"Took a shot to the shoulder. I think it's mostly superficial," he replies and then sways a bit.

"Superficial or not, you've lost a lot of blood," she says and wraps an arm around his waist. "Let's get you back to Gerard."

"Gee's still on board?" he asks weakly.

"Yeah," she says. "Right here in my ear."

"Tell him he can punch me after I fix his arm," Gerard says. Lindsey passes on the message with a straight face. Brian laughs.

"I might take him up on it," Brian says as they move back to the docking bay. "But it'll be good to… tell him… tell him I still think he's an asshole, but after I punch him, I'm probably going to hug him."

Gerard laughs in her ear, a little hysterical, a lot relieved. "Think he heard you," she says. She's definitely prying this story out of someone as soon as possible. "Gee, how's the situation out there?" she asks.

"One ship taken care of, finishing off the other and scanning both for intel."

"Okay. We'll be back soon," she says and gets Brian strapped into a seat in the interceptor.

Chris reappears with whatever Brian had sent him to fetch from the hold. She recognizes that case and has a good idea of what Brian was carrying. "Looks like we were running similar missions," she says. "I'm Lindsey Ballato, formerly of the Kraken."

Brian studies her with interest. "Formerly?"

"My crewmate and I got overrun by a vulture. Not even a fucking Core ship. I got injured and the Mercury picked up our escape pod four days later," she explains.

Brian chuckles darkly. "Fucking vultures probably didn't even know what they had."

"That's my hope," she says. "We're gonna try to recover the missing tech. I'm betting it's still in the shell of my fucking ship in whatever junkyard they dropped it in after they stripped it."

"This would have been good information to share before now," Grant says over the comms, sounding a bit chilly.

"Grant, c'mon. Do you think I'd just say it over the comms if I didn't trust you? I forgot you didn't know," she says. She senses a conversation with the captain in her future, and sighs. Chris looks at her sympathetically and gestures at the controls. "Let's go," she says. "I've stopped the bleeding, but he's gonna need Gerard."

"Right. Want to fly her home?" Chris replies.

"Sure," Lindsey says. She takes the helm and flies her away. Shit, it's been too long since she flew anything herself. She can't help smiling, despite the losses she knows the Knife has suffered. Despite the shit they're still cleaning up. All of them take their joys where they can get them. It's hard to begrudge anyone a simple pleasure out here.

She inspects the Mercury as they prepare to dock. She looks a bit worse for wear, but mostly her shields seem to have held up. Can't say the same for the smoking debris they passed on the way in. She lands easily in the shuttle bay and helps Brian out of his seat. Gerard is standing there waiting for them.

Gerard wraps an arm around Brian's waist on his other side and they help him toward the medbay. "When I saw it was the Knife… shit, Brian," Gerard murmurs.

"Afraid you'd have to apologize to my vaporized atoms?" Brian says dryly.

"Yes," Gerard replies softly.

"Okay, Gee," Brian says.

"How about we get his arm fixed up and then you boys can talk?" Lindsey suggests. "We've got a lot of enemy space to fly through before the rendezvous point."

 

\--

 

Gerard thinks that his heart may never settle into a normal rhythm again. Brian is on his side with his shirt off as Gerard repairs the damage to his arm. He can see at least two of the tattoos he designed for Brian. He swallows hard. "So, the next time I fuck up that bad, you should just punch me first. Because I really don't want to lose one of my best friends through my own stupidity. Again."

"Maybe there won't be a next time," Brian replies. "You admitting you fucked up is - well."

"I try to learn from my mistakes," Gerard replies as he finishes. "Okay, I need you to sit up and move your arm around. It'll probably hurt, but I need to repair the finer muscle damage as it's working." Brian's fixed grimace reminds him a bit of Lindsey, his most recent patient. He almost laughs.

"So, what's up with the girl?" Brian asks.

"Lindsey? She's. Um. My girlfriend."

"Well, I just meant where you picked her up. Guess you actually picked her up." He chuckles.

Gerard grins. "She's great, though. You'll like her. We found their escape pod just on the edge of the wrong space. Lindsey's leg was really badly broken and we were days out from Leela, so we were stuck in close quarters for a while."

"There's someone else too?" Brian asks. Gerard keeps him talking so he can wrap his shoulder.

"Yeah. Guy named Frank Iero. I think that's his real name, anyway. Good dude. Grant seems to be, ah, interested in him," Gerard explains.

"Something in the water supply on this ship?" Brian asks. "Damn, I know that name."

"You know how it is with new people," Gerard says. "Though, these two seem to be pretty special." He finishes up. "Leave that on for the rest of the day and try not to move it much. Should be good to go in the morning. And how do you know Frank?"

"Old neighborhood," Brian says tersely.

"Ah," Gerard says. He already knows that story. Doesn't need it again. "Well, he's here. Will probably be at dinner in a bit."

Brian nods. "For the record, Gee, I don't want to punch you anymore. At all. Even before the arm fixing part."

Gerard smiles. "My stomach or other various body parts thank you. I am sorry, Bri. You deserved better than that."

"I did my share of wrong," Brian replies.

Gerard shrugs. "I started it." He reaches out to squeeze Brian's good shoulder. "I'm sorry about your crew."

Brian looks sorrowful, but shakes his head after a moment. "Knew what we all signed on for."

"Still. Hopefully we can at least give their families some closure," Gerard says. Brian nods. "Grant basically transferred your entire mainframe to ours, so all your info is preserved. And I think he wants to see you and Lindsey about your missions now. This is twice the Mercury has been in the right place at the right time. I know he's glad, really."

"But he's the commanding officer, and he needs more info than he has. I get it," Brian replies. "Everything still in the same spot?"

"Last I checked," Gerard replies.

"I'll go see him, then," Brian says.

"See you at dinner?"

"Yeah, Gee."

Gerard works to put the med bay back together, humming as he works. He expects Lindsey as soon as she's at liberty, but Frank wanders in a few minutes before Gerard was going to head to dinner. "Becky said this guy we picked up… his name is Brian Schechter?" Frank asks.

Gerard nods. "He recognized your name, too."

"We ran together when we were kids. I wouldn't say he's a friend, but - he knows where the bodies are buried." Frank laughs a little.

Gerard laughs too. "I get that. He'll be around, so you'll have some time to catch up."

"If he stays," Frank replies.

"If he stays," Gerard says. He hopes Brian does. Gerard wants him to get to know Lindsey, wants him around so they can get back their friendship.

"What's your deal with him anyway?"

Gerard tries not to care that anyone on the comm had heard all of it. "He was one of my best friends for years. And then when the going got tough, I didn't trust him," Gerard replies. Frank makes a face. "And he was trying to prove himself at the same time, and I didn't want to be a part of it, and - personality clash," Gerard finishes. "I think we're different people now. Grant's helped me a lot," he adds to see Frank go pink, which he predictably does. "Anyway, I'm hoping we can patch things up properly," Gerard says. "He's a good friend to have."

"Think he and Lindsey have been read the entire riot act yet?" Frank asks after a moment.

Gerard laughs. "Grant talks a good talk, but he'll change from riot to 'disappointed you didn't trust me, Lindsey,' soon and that'll be even worse. He has a really effective sad puppy face. Not that you're likely to have seen it," he teases.

Frank makes a face at him. "Every time we've had more than ten minutes together, we get interrupted."

"So you have seen his sad face," Gerard replies, not without sympathy.

Frank laughs a little. "Yes. I mean, it's fine. At the end of the day. If it happens again, I'll be laughing to keep from punching something. Or maybe I'll convince someone to spar with me."

"Not me," Gerard says quickly. "I don't go in for violence. I mean. Unless I have to."

"Figured, Mr. Medic," Frank says.

"I mean, I've been practicing my martial arts lately, but that's probably not quite what you want," Gerard adds. "Vince is probably your best bet. Or Lindsey."

"Lindsey what?" she asks, walking in.

"Sparring with me," Frank says.

She grins. "Think you can take me, Iero?"

"Guess we'll find out."

"I'd say Brian, but he has to go easy on that arm for a couple of days," Gerard says as Brian comes in the door.

"Ugh," Brian says, but he smiles at Frank. "Hey man, long time, no see." They shake hands and go in for a quick hug.

"Really long. How'd you end up out here?"

"That's a really long story," Brian says. "The short version is ran away from home, joined the Alliance, got stuck on a ship with this asshole."

"And I ran away from the military, joined up with Lindsey, and then got stuck on a ship with this asshole," Frank says with a grin.

"Hey!" Gerard says.

"It's just too easy, apparently," Lindsey says with a smile. She wraps an arm around Gerard's waist and he wraps his around her shoulders.

"Cheap shots," Gerard grumbles.

"I'll protect you. Are we eating now?"

"Please. I... haven't eaten in... I don't even know," Brian says.

They make their way toward the mess. "How'd it go with Grant?" Gerard murmurs in Lindsey's ear.

"He's upset," Lindsey admits. "Said it wouldn't have made a difference in our course, really, but that he'd have liked to know."

Gerard nods. "He tends to be... relationship-driven as a captain. He'll get over it." Frank snorts softly from behind Gerard. "You would know," Gerard shoots over his shoulder with a laugh.

Frank mumbles something that sounds like "I'd like to know better," and Gerard ignores it - mostly.

Lindsey laughs in his ear. "I'm glad we've all found each other."

 

\--

 

Frank hasn't set foot on solid ground in a long damn time. He's looking forward to it. He perches in a bridge chair near Grant, watching as Grant and Vince chat with the port security over the comm. They've dismissed half the crew to go grab their things from the bunks. Frank has his own bag slung over his shoulder.

"Get out of here already," Vince tells Grant. "I'll hold down the fort while everyone is gallivanting."

Grant makes a face. "I wish you didn't have to -"

"I volunteered to stay on board," Vince cuts off yet another apology. "I'll vidchat with my family and catch up on my reading." He smiles. "Still can't believe you cancelled that cargo pickup."

Grant reaches for Frank's hand. " This crew all needs a break, and finding the junkers is even more of a priority now. But... we've been interrupted entirely too many times."

"There are certain things I don't need to know," Vince replies evenly.

Grant laughs. "Fuck off. I meant just in general, in addition to other things. Life on this ship is certainly eventful."

"Plus I finally get a new name and ident," Frank adds. It's been a weight on his mind. Knowing Grant has rooms booked for them at a nice guesthouse is making him impatient but not any less anticipatory for their first stop.

"That you do. Free to roam the galaxy as you will," Vince says. "Have a nice time."

Frank and Grant finally make their way toward the airlock and out into the station. They'll catch a shuttle down to the surface from there. Lindsey and Gerard are long gone, and Jon and Chris have been discussing a certain pub since Grant announced the leave.

Becky, Brian, and Frances ride down to the surface with them. Frank had laughed at Brian's face when he finally figured out exactly who Frances was. He's sure his own looked much the same. Becky and Brian seem to be hitting it off very well, which is not even a little bit surprising given what he remembers of Brian and what he's learned about Becky in the last several weeks. He'd even be glad to hang out with them...another time. Right now, he has two goals: get his new ident, and find their rooms. Maybe go for a walk around town if they decide to leave their rooms.

It makes his stomach feel fluttery every time he sneaks a look at Grant, because Grant cannot stop smiling. Grant's smile is very rapidly becoming one of Frank's favorite things. The fact that Frank's the one that put it there, well. That's pretty great too.

They go to Karen for the idents. Apparently she's an old friend of Grant's. She lives in a nice little flat, all by herself except for a cage of small indigenous bird-like animals, and she looks more like a teacher than a master forger.

"Grant, I swear I make a new ship ident for you every month. Use them more sparingly and I won't have to," she says.

Grant laughs. "You'd need to convince Gerard we don't need to fake out every time."

"He's cautious," Karen replies. "It's a good thing in a comm officer." She grins. "And a full ident for this young man. My specialty."

Frank looks at it and grins. "Francis Taylor. I like it."

"That code will scan through all but the high security checkpoints. So unless you're trying to break into a military base, you should be fine," she tells him.

"Why would a nice boy like me ever try something like that?"

She laughs. "You run around with Grant, that's not a line I'm likely to believe." She offers them tea once she's got all her equipment stowed, but Grant declines politely, which only makes Karen's lips twitch. She's clearly known him a long time.

Grant takes his hand as they walk toward their rooms. "Well, Francis, I suppose I can confess now that I have all sorts of depraved plans for you," Grant says with a grin.

"That's good. Because I am definitely in favor of depravity. I'm only leaving if someone decides to start dropping bombs on us," Frank says.

"For once, that possibility seems slim." Grant squeezes his fingers tighter.

"Thank fucking god for that," Frank says. "No interruptions today."

Grant stops when they reach their destination. It's much nicer than Frank expected, the lobby and hallways decorated with mirrors and colored lights and sleek bronze walls. He could really care less as long as it features a bed and a lock, but it's about as far from the metal and grime of a spaceship as you can get. 

Grant checks them in and they go up to their room. Which also happens to have an amazing view of the lake below. The only view Frank cares about is Grant.

"Well, captain?" Frank says quietly when Grant locks the door behind them.

Grant steps toward him and takes Frank in his arms. "No emergencies, no interruptions, just us."

Frank stretches to kiss him. Grant kisses back, his hands sliding under Frank's shirt to touch the skin of his back. It doesn't take Frank long to lose patience. "Clothes. Off."

"Excellent idea," Grant says, lifting Frank's shirt hem. Frank lets him get it the rest of the way off before attacking Grant's buttons. He places a kiss on the skin he reveals with each button. 

Grant's hands slide over Frank's shoulders and into his hair. Frank hums happily, leaning down to trace his lips over Grant's stomach then straightening to push the shirt off his shoulders. Grant traces his fingers over Frank's chest. "So much art I've never seen."

"Look all you want while I take the rest of my clothing off," Frank teases.

"I imagine I'll be rather distracted by the time you're done," Grant says.

"Then maybe you should take the rest of your clothes off too so we can both be distracted."

"Fair enough." Grant smirks and starts working on his belt. Frank sits down to take off his boots and socks and finally gets his pants off. He finishes in time to watch Grant straighten up and come toward him. Shit, his body is amazing.

"Fuck, you're - what do you do, pull-ups on the struts in the engine room?" Frank's imagination is running away from him.

Grant just laughs. "More like, little sleep and a lifetime on the move."

Frank reaches out and pulls Grant between his knees. "Whatever it is, you're fucking gorgeous."

Grant's gaze is running over him busily. "I have to agree." He kneels up on the bed, straddling Frank's thighs. Frank wraps his arms around Grant's waist. Frank can feel Grant's cock pressing against his stomach and his mouth starts to water. 

Grant leans down, framing his hands around Frank's jaw and kissing him again. Frank closes his eyes and kisses back. When Grant pushes Frank over onto his back, Frank moves out from under him so he's leaning against the pillows. "Are you coming up here?" he asks.

"I'm looking first," Grant replies.

"Okay," Frank replies and slides a hand down to rest on his belly just above his cock. Grant follows the path of Frank's hand with his eyes and licks his lips.

Frank bites his lip. He wants Grant's hands, his mouth, but he wants to see what Grant will do.  
What Grant does is fold down onto his haunches at Frank's feet, leaning down to caress his ankles and calves. Frank breathes out. Grant meets his eyes and smiles as traces over a few of Frank's tattoos and then moves his hands up and over Frank's knees to his thighs. He pulls one of Frank's legs up with a hand behind his knee, kissing the skin once it gets closer to his mouth. 

Frank reaches out and lets his fingers trail over Grant's shoulder. "Grant," he murmurs.

Grant hushes him and keeps kissing his way up Frank's thigh. He slides his tongue over the words on the top of Frank's thigh and sucks at the soft skin of his inner thigh. "You taste good," he whispers and reaches up to run his hand over Frank's chest. 

Frank touches the back of it and smoothes his fingers down Grant's arm to his head. He doesn't direct it, even though Grant's hot breath on his thighs is driving him insane. Just holds on, stroking his thumb over the soft skin behind Grant's ear. Grant slides his lips over to Frank's balls and he moans and curses. "Fuck."

"Just visiting," Grant murmurs. "There is so much more of you to explore." Frank would protest, but fuck. He wants Grant to do whatever the hell he wants.

"I'm going to return the favor," Frank tells him.

Grant smiles. "Looking forward to it." He kisses one of the birds on Frank's stomach. Frank takes another breath, Grant's lips skidding upwards to rest at the tip of his sternum.

Frank brings both hands up, one to cup the back of his head, the other his shoulder. "Grant," he breathes. He doesn't even know what else to say.

Grant doesn't bother answering, just curls his tongue around a nipple and draws out a gasp. He finally can't stand it anymore and tugs Grant up so his body covers Frank's, so they can kiss.

"You forfeit," Grant murmurs. Frank chuckles through the kiss that follows. If it's a competition Grant wants.... Frank hooks his ankles around Grant's legs and flips him over onto his back. Grant laughs breathlessly. "Did you want to wrestle, Frank? I assure you I will offer you a bout anytime."

Frank laughs. "We're two different weight classes. You'd win. But maybe I wouldn't mind."

"I would never, ever mind," Grant tells him, nosing up Frank's neck, nipping at his jaw. Frank responds by rolling his hips down against Grant's. He's the one making Grant moan this time. The sound and the feel of Grant's cock moving against his just turns Frank on even more.

"How patient are you feeling right now?" Frank murmurs.

"Not terribly patient," Grant admits. "But we have time. For once."

"Then I'm going to do a little exploring too."

Grant takes a deep breath. "As you wish." 

Frank smiles and leans down to start at his neck. Oh, the noises he makes. Frank happily echoes them, as Grant's hands continue to roam as Frank's lips explore. He loves each and every one of Grant's reactions, wants more. Wants to know what Grant sounds like when he comes.

"So, I really don't want to stop this," he says against Grant's ribs, "but all I can think about right now is fucking riding you."

Grant moans and Frank feels it against his lips. "The beauty of having time is that we can do that and have time for more later," Grant says.

"Guess we can," Frank says, trailing off into a moan as Grant reaches down and clasps Frank's hips.

"Come here." He hauls Frank up, up, up until he's straddling Grant's head and -

"Oh, fuck," Frank whimpers. He has to reach out to hold the headboard to keep himself steady as Grant's tongue works his hole. "Fuck, Grant."

Grant, of course, can't reply, but Frank can say enough for both of them. It feels unbelievably filthy and perfect. Frank fights to keep his hips still, but fuck, he wants to move. Wants more, but doesn't want Grant to stop. He clamps his hands tighter on the headboard and moans Grant's name.

Grant nudges Frank back. Frank sucks in a breath and looks down at Grant's face. "Fuck, your fucking mouth."

"All yours," Grant tells him. "It's...tell me when..." He sounds dazed.

Frank laughs and leans off the bed to snag a packet of lube from his jeans. "Just a little of this." He wriggles back and rips it open, pouring lube into his palm and reaching for Grant's cock. 

Grant bites his lip and watches Frank's hand slick him up. Frank goes up on his knees and positions himself over Grant's cock. Grant's hand settles onto Frank's hip, and Frank stares at the other, the fingers twisting into the sheets as Frank lowers himself slowly, pushing Grant's cock inside his body, taking it inch by slow inch. Grant's still biting his lip and Frank reaches out with his thumb and tugs it from between his teeth. 

Grant takes Frank's fingers into his mouth instead, tongue pushing against the callouses on his fingertips, and Frank whines in his throat. He rolls his hips and leans down to untangle Grant's fingers from the sheets. He grips Grant's hand tightly and rolls his hips again.

Grant lets him do what he wants, his eyes locked on Frank's face. "Frank," Grant murmurs. "You feel. Fuck. Worth all the waiting."

Frank lets his head droop back. "So do you."

Grant starts moving his hips, slowly fucking up into Frank. Frank moves with him. He forces his eyes open, taking a series of quick, shallow breaths as their bodies settle into a new rhythm. It's so fucking good, he can barely stand it. But fuck, he wants to hold out. Needs to. Just a little longer.

Grant grips his fingers tighter. "Come down here," he whispers.

He leans down and Grant wraps his arms around Frank's shoulders. He buries his fingers in Frank's hair and tugs their mouths together. Frank moans and slides his tongue into Grant's mouth. They move, hands and mouths and hips.

Frank loses track of time, of thoughts, of everything but their bodies. He can't remember the last time that has happened. Grant feels so good, every inch of him. When he reaches between them to wrap a hand around Frank's cock, it's even better. He barely needs to move his hand, just holds tightly enough to let Frank thrust. It doesn't take long for him to come after that. He shakes against Grant, lips pressed to his chin. Grant lets him still, then flips them over again, thrusting harder.

Frank moans and holds Grant tight as he thrusts. "Come for me, Grant," he whispers in Grant's ear. He feels Grant's lips press against his neck and his hips snap until he comes murmuring Frank's name.

They stay like that, wrapped up in each other, for several long minutes. They just breathe. Every puff of Grant's breath against his neck makes Frank smile.

When Grant finally moves, it's only to tug Frank into a - for someone used to shipboard facilities - decadent washroom. He pushes several buttons and the shower starts. Frank doesn't even know what to do with that much water at once. On ship, the shower water is purified and recycled, but they still have strict rules about shower length. And if they're out for too long, they have to make do with the sonic shower because the water gets used for more important things. Like drinking.

This time, he does the tugging, pulling Grant under the spray and into his arms. It's warm and he feels cleaner already just standing there holding Grant.

"You like showers, don't you?" Grant asks.

"Shh," Frank says. "You're interrupting my religious experience."

"I am trying to decide whether I should be offended that this does not refer to going to bed with me," Grant murmurs, running his fingers through Frank's wet fringe. "Let me wash your hair?" he asks.

Frank nods happily and turns in Grant's arms. Grant starts lathering shampoo that smells fresh and minty through Frank's hair. His eyes slip closed. Grant's fingers feel amazing on his scalp. Hot shower, soft bed, sex-sore muscles... Frank sighs happily.

Grant turns Frank back around to rinse, running his hands down Frank's neck, over his shoulders, and down to his waist. "You are so beautiful," Grant tells him.

Frank slides his hands up Grant's chest. "So are you."

Grant just smiles. "Let's finish washing and go back to bed. "I'm still not finished looking at you."

Frank smiles back. "I suppose we'll have time for another shower, too."

"Undoubtedly," Grant replies.

They get out, and apparently this washroom is so posh there's a drying pad, so they don't even have to use the towels. They crawl back into bed naked and Frank notices how soft the sheets are. "You are spoiling me," he says.

Grant leans in and kisses him. "It's not often I get to Pragen and when I do, I like to stay here."

"So you're spoiling yourself?"

"Making you happy makes me happy," Grant tells him.

"I am happy. You don't have to… when Lindsey and I were in that escape pod, I had a lot of time to think. And I knew what was going to happen. If we got picked up, at best we'd get dumped at the nearest station and then we'd find whatever shitty ships would take us, probably be separated, and it would be awful. I found so much fucking more than that on the Mercury," Frank says.

Grant smiles and cups Frank's cheek in his hand. "I'm very happy," he replies.

"Good," Frank says and leans up to kiss him. They kiss lazily until they drift into sleep.

 

\--

 

When Grant wakes up on Pragen in a spacious, comfortable bed next to Frank, he stays still and quiet for a long time. He wants to bask in his contentment for a little while. Work will intrude on this soon enough, but they have a bit of time - precious, hard-won time.

Frank rolls closer to Grant after a while and Grant wraps him in his arms. "Morning," Frank mutters.

"Morning," Grant whispers, studying his eyelashes and mop of tangled hair.

"Almost forgot what a real bed was like," Frank says. "'S'nice."

"I'd sleep in a pile of blankets on the deck with you," Grant tells him truthfully.

Frank lifts his head and looks at Grant. "Well, hopefully it won't come to that, Captain."

"Call me that again, and I'll -"

"You like it," Frank interrupts.

Grant laughs and leans in to kiss him. "Only when it's you. Like this."

"So how many hours do we have before we need to report back? Captain."

"A few hours," Grant replies. "Think we can cram fucking, showering, and eating breakfast into that time?"

"I'm willing to try," Frank says with a grin.

They actually beat most of the crew back to the Mercury, which gives Grant the unparalleled pleasure of watching the parade of hangovers into the docking bay. Gerard and Lindsey come back looking more tired than hung over, which is also pretty amusing. Grant knows for a fact that they've been a lot luckier than he and Frank have in the "time alone" department. But there's nothing wrong with enthusiasm. It's also why he doesn't feel at all bad about laughing at their sleepy eyes and at how Gerard is clutching a mug of coffee like a lifeline.

Hung over or not, his crew will all do him proud once they're on duty. He waits until they're all aboard and the ship is underway to call a strategy session. Lindsey slips onto the bridge fifteen minutes before the appointed time. He smiles at her and gestures her over to him. She smiles back. "What can I do for you, Miss Ballato?"

"I just wanted to make sure you - that is, I -"

"I'm not upset about you concealing your mission, Captain," he interrupts gently. "I thought I'd been clear. I'm not your commanding officer, after all."

"You are now," she says. "I mean it."

He feels suddenly, incredibly touched. He reaches out his hand and she shakes it with a smile. "It is my honor to have you as part of my crew."

"I could use some leave time," Vince calls over from the helm, a laugh in his voice. They know there won't be any of that until the rendezvous with the Alliance. Still, it's a good idea for the future. Splitting executive officer duty could give Vince a chance to visit his kids more often and take the pressure off him and Grant a bit.

Grant is still thinking about it when the room starts to fill, Brian trailed by Becky, Jon, then Gerard. He glances at Frank who's sitting at the weapons array. He's not technically on duty, but he's been sitting there running diagnostics for half an hour. He feels responsible, Grant knows, no matter if he should. Will want to be involved. The only thing Grant can really do is let him, make sure he's just as prepared as the others. Frank won't stand for being protected. 

Grant wouldn't want to anyway. Not really. He likes Frank's fire. Likes his fierceness. And particularly likes how good he is with the ship's weapons and engines.

Becky, Jon, and Brian are shooting good-natured insults back and forth, and Chris slips in just under a minute late. Grant smiles. Typical Chris. "All right, we're all here. How are we approaching this?" Grant asks.

Brian is the first one to speak up. "Send in a cruiser while Mercury stays in orbit, is what I would do."

"Force or stealth?" Vince asks.

Gerard grins. "He's going to say force."

Brian rolls his eyes. "Actually, I was going to say stealth and save the Mercury for the force."

"Sending in a decoy, or straight-up thief in the night stuff?" Lindsey asks.

"Decoy," Brian replies. "Unless you or Frank have thief in the night skill; I know none of these guys really do and I definitely don't."

"So we need a decoy," Grant says thoughtfully.

"We could equip the shuttle?" Frank asks. "Or find a friend?"

"If we sacrifice one of Karen's ship idents..." Grant muses.

"I'll go," Chris says confidently. "Play trader."

"She's going to give us so much shit," Frank says with a laugh.

"Trust me, she's well-compensated. She just -"

"Likes giving you shit," Vince finishes.

"I can retrofit one of the shuttles with smuggler-grade stuff," Becky offers.

Grant nods. "Do it. Coordinate with Chris. You have two days before we hit the system. Who's on the landing team?"

Gerard is carefully not looking at Lindsey. Everyone knows she has to go. "I'd like to take Frank. And Brian," Lindsey says. "And maybe one other." She looks at Chris. "Do you need someone with you?"

"Might be good," Chris replies. "I like having a gun at my back."

"Me," Jon says. "Bonus if I can get into their security feeds from inside."

Grant nods. "Lindsey, we'll want most of the rest to man the Mercury, but if you truly need a fourth, we'll make do."

"We'll be fine," Frank and Brian say in unison.

Gerard laughs. "Are you sure you two don't share any DNA?"

"I'm the good twin," Brian says.

Grant hides a smile. "Two days," he repeats. "Status reports at the end of each shift." 

They all nod and disperse. Becky's already chattering about all the things she's going to do to make the shuttle look like a smuggler's vessel. Lindsey, Brian and Frank have their heads together. Gerard stays on the bridge with Grant.

"So. We're going to be keeping each other from going fucking crazy, huh?" Gerard asks.

"Don't we always?" Grant says, taking his seat at the helm.

Gerard smiles. "Yeah. Just. Not usually like this will be."

"True enough," Grant murmurs.

"Comes with the territory." Gerard perches on the arm of Grant's chair.

Grant nods. "This should be routine and they're all skilled. And we're prepared with the big guns just in case." He squeezes Gerard's knee. "And a good medic."

Gerard smiles. "I try. I should probably take a training class or two again soon. If we're ever not busy again." Grant laughs. He'd like to see it happen. Gerard leans his cheek on Grant's head. "We both got really lucky, didn't we?"

"Considering you wouldn't do me the favor of falling for me all those years ago," Grant teases.

Gerard huffs out a laugh. "I always felt bad about that."

"It seems to have worked out," Grant says drily.

"Yeah, I think so," Gerard replies and kisses the top of Grant's head before sitting up. Gerard is a good friend. His best friend, excepting perhaps Vince. Grant is thankful. It's always hard watching his people do dangerous things and it's true, it will be a little harder this time, but he does have Gerard to keep him grounded.

Gerard finally stirs when Chris comes on duty, and Grant relinquishes the helm and goes to sit at the map table. A cup of tea appears beside his hand as he touches the screen making notes. He reaches out without looking and gets a handful of shirt, hauls Frank close enough to get an arm around him. 

Frank settles against his side. "Hey."

Grant kisses his temple. "Hello. Thank you," he says. "For the tea."

"When are you off duty?" Frank asks.

"Soon, technically," Grant replies.

"By which you mean, you'd just keep working, but you know Frank is going to make you take a break?"

Grant laughs and nods. "Frank is talking about himself in the third person," he points out.

"Frank has lots of good incentives for you to take your break," Frank continues, ignoring him.

Grant smiles wide. "Well, when Frank puts it like that, how can I refuse?"

"Don't," Frank murmurs.

Grant checks the time. "Twenty minutes and then I'm all yours."

Frank smiles, kisses his cheek, then wriggles free. Grant watches him leave and then turns back to the map table. He marks down a couple of locations they should stop for supplies and charts their general route. Chris is swearing companionably at the drive readouts - nothing's wrong, he just talks to them incessantly - but it's not distracting. He puts the display to sleep and squeezes Chris's shoulder on his way off the bridge.

He heads straight for his quarters. Frank is already there waiting, curled up on Grant's bed with a datapad. This ship, these rooms, have been his home for years, so he's surprised at how much more like home it feels to walk in and see Frank waiting for him.

"Brought us some dinner," Frank murmurs, gesturing at a platter covered by a thermal dome.

"I adore you," Grant says fervently and lifts the platter and hands it to Frank before sitting next to him on the bed. Frank actually turns pink. Grant wants to kiss him, but he's also starving.

He hands Frank a fork and they both start eating. They talk a bit about the upcoming mission, about the book Frank is reading, about anything that pops to mind as they eat. He's impressed by the planning Frank and Brian and Lindsey have already done. They work well together, clearly. His three new crew members are clearly a good fit.

He might enjoy the talk about the book most though. Frank is sharp and witty, and he loves to read. He's gobbled up several of the novels Grant has been working on and had really insightful things to say about them and suggestions when Grant asks. Grant has come to terms with this conflict stealing his best years. He has hopes it won't be that way for Frank.

When they finish eating, he puts the platter on the side table and gets back on the bed. Frank moves to drape himself over Grant's side and strokes a hand up and down his chest. "Did you want something else?" Grant murmurs.

Frank shakes his head. "Just wanna be with you."

"All right," Grant agrees. He holds Frank closer. "I know how a third of your day went. How was the rest?"

"It was - good. I'm glad I can work with Lyn and Brian," Frank admits.

Grant strokes his arm. "I'm glad the three of you are settling into the Mercury well. We knew Brian before, of course, but he didn't serve on the Mercury at all. And when he and Gerard butted heads, well..."

"I can't even imagine them having issues," Frank murmurs.

"Brian thinks Gerard hung the moons and stars. He pushed Gerard a bit too hard once upon a time, to take on more responsibility, and Gerard pushed back, and it got ugly."

"Huh," Frank says. "I suppose I can see that. They both seem pretty fucking stubborn. And I say that as the stubbornest motherfucker around," he laughs.

Grant laughs too. "The ship is full of stubborn fuckers. It's a good thing we all get along most of the time."

"Here's to getting along," Frank murmurs, nuzzling Grant's neck.

Grant smiles and puts his hand under Frank's shirt on his waist. "Hear, hear," he replies.

Frank slides himself on top of Grant and looks down at him with a smile. "If I think about it too hard, this is so odd. Me and fucking Grant Morrison."

"Me and you," Grant repeats, linking his fingers over the small of Frank's back.

"Put like that, it's a lot less intimidating," Frank murmurs and leans down to kiss him.

"Good," Grant replies. Frank's hair falls down around their faces. Grant reaches up to push it behind his ear and kisses back. It's so good between them. Even when they have to steal time, or keep an ear open for alerts.

Grant wraps his arms around Frank's shoulders and rolls him onto his back. Frank watches him through heavy-lidded eyes. Grant takes hold of the hem of Frank's shirt and pulls it up. Frank lifts and they get it off in short order.

"We doing this, captain?" Frank murmurs.

"Yes, we are," Grant replies. He leans down to kiss the middle of Frank's chest. He wants Frank in his mouth this time. He keeps kissing his way down Frank's body. When he gets to the button of his trousers, Grant takes care of it. Frank, for once, holds still for him. He gets Frank's trousers open and pulls them, along with his briefs, down and off. He drops kisses on Frank's hipbones and across his belly. 

Frank makes a contented noise and traces his fingertips behind Grant's ears. Grant nudges Frank's legs wider and kisses his inner thighs, slides his mouth over Frank's balls, and finally takes his cock into his mouth. He loves both the noise Frank makes and the sinuous twist of his hips that he can't quite control.

Grant takes his time. He licks and sucks the head, works the shaft with his tongue, and moves back to the head. He remembers quite suddenly the last time he did this. It was somewhat more frantic, in a dark corner of a club on a distant planet. It had been about attraction, about release. 

This is about those things and so much more. Mostly it's just about Frank, about wanting to touch him, to make him feel good.

Frank moans above him. Grant lifts his hand and wraps it around the base of Frank's cock. He uses both hand and mouth for a while, breathing steadily through his nose. Frank's breathing becomes more ragged as he goes. Grant sets out to make each breath end on a moan. He wants Frank writhing and clutching, and it's easier than he expected to get. But just as lovely. He moves his hand away and sinks down further, letting his tongue stroke the underside of Frank's cock. Frank's moans become his name and he arches up, tentatively and then more confidently as Grant encourages him. 

Grant holds onto his hips. Not to control them, just to feel them as they move. His fingers splay over lines of ink that he wants to lick. Maybe later. He keeps sucking, working his throat and lips and tongue. Frank is getting close. His concentration has narrowed his senses down to Frank's taste, smell, sound. He loves it.

"Grant," Frank moans. "Fuck. So…oh fuck." He comes, just like that, hands clutching at Grant's head and neck. Grant swallows him down and pulls off, panting in time with Frank. "That was so good," Frank tells him when he can breathe.

Grant smiles up at him. "One of my chief goals in life lately is to make you feel good."

"You are really great at it."

"Good," Grant replies. "If all goes according to plan, I'll get even better at it."

"Wow, I can't imagine," Frank says, eyes comically wide, "now, fuck, come here."

Grant slides up his body with a grin. "I intend to become the leading expert on you, Frank Iero."

"Won't be hard," Frank mumbles.

"I intend to get full marks," Grant replies and leans in to kiss him. 

Frank groans a little and licks all around his mouth for the taste of his own come. Grant pushes his hands into Frank's hair. 

"Gorgeous," he murmurs against Frank's lips. He shifts his hips against Frank's, testing. Frank gasps against his lips and moves his own hips. "I've been thinking about you for hours," Grant tells him.

"Good job being a professional and shit all afternoon," Frank murmurs with a smug grin.

"I'm a fucking great professional. I'm also completely besotted with you," Grant replies.

"Fucking mutual," Frank says. "If we were anywhere near a tattoo artist, I'd probably already have your name on my skin. I'm that kind of guy." Grant has to bite back a possessive sound. It's a little intense, how much he likes that idea. "You kinda want to take a detour now, don't you?" 

Frank's smirk is a thing to behold.

"No time," Grant mutters, pained.

"When there is time," Frank says. "Don't think I won't." He squirms against Grant again. Grant groans. "What do you want?" Frank whispers. "This? My hand? My mouth? My ass?"

Grant breathes in hard through his nose and rolls Frank over, thrusting in between his thighs. Frank moans and reaches back to cup Grant's cheek. Grant kisses his palm and keeps thrusting. He whispers in Frank's ear, nonsense, most of it dirty. Frank moves with him. It's so fucking good. The slide of his skin, the way Grant can feel every breath Frank takes in his chest. The salty taste of the skin of his neck, when Grant kisses it. Then bites.

Frank moans and Grant sucks his earlobe into his mouth and starts thrusting faster. Frank flexes his thighs and pushes back into each stroke. Grant's getting so close and Frank's body feels so fucking good he can't stand it. He presses his lips against the back of Frank's neck.

"Grant," Frank murmurs. "Come. Wanna feel it."

He breathes out and thrusts until he can obey. He comes between Frank's thighs and over his ass. Frank is looking at him through half-lidded eyes. Grant tries to catch his breath and kiss Frank at the same time. It mostly ends in him panting against Frank's mouth. That's okay, though. He'd rather be here than anywhere else.

He does move to get a cloth to clean Frank up. He starts with his tongue, though. Given a bit more time, he might be able to get Frank off again. He licks up the mess on Frank's arse. Frank groans at each swipe of Grant's tongue. 

"You can't be real," Frank gasps.

Grant laughs and kisses the spot where the revolvers on Frank's back cross. "I assure you, I am." He kisses the rest of the tattoos he can reach, too. "Will you let me pick my spot?"

"Wherever you fucking want," Frank replies. Grant doesn't have to look at him to know he's smiling. He wriggles onto his back and reaches for Grant. Grant happily moves into Frank's arms. 

Frank wraps a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in to kiss. Grant will do this all night, if Frank wants.

They kiss for a long time, arms wrapped tightly around each other. They only stop because Frank falls asleep. Grant chuckles softly and settles in to read for a little while. He's not quite ready for sleep. He's still enjoying the moment of relaxation. He also can't quite help watching Frank sleep. He's lovely, smooth and peaceful. Grant can see the lines of age starting to develop around his eyes this way. It's unbelievably endearing. Grant reaches out to trace over the lines. Frank doesn't even flinch away.

"I adore you," Grant tells him softly. He swallows and sets down his datapad. There will be no reading tonight. There will be, instead, staring at his sleeping lover. Grant is a sentimental fool, but it doesn't disturb him.

\--

 

They're five hours out from the junk yard where Lindsey's little Kraken is being kept. She's restless and suddenly angry once again that her ship got taken out from under her. She wouldn't necessarily take it all back because where they are now is good, but damn well it pisses her off. She doesn't just want the tech back. She wants the vultures taken down. 

She really hopes they can. Their intel says the yard is full of derelict ships and parts just floating in a cordoned off bit of space. She hopes they're there. Hopes they can do some fucking damage.

She's working on the preflight check for the interceptor while Becky preps the shuttle. Frances comes in with an armful of datapads. "Hey," Lindsey says and takes a deep breath.

Frances hands her the datapads and sits in the co-pilot seat. "You ready?" she asks.

"I've done dumber things than this," Lindsey jokes.

Frances smiles. "I just bet. I ask partly because Gerard is pacing around the ship like a caged animal of some kind."

"He's sweet," Lindsey murmurs.

Frances rolls her eyes. "He's insane. And also crazy about you. At least a little bit literally."

"I like it, whatever you call it," Lindsey says.

"I would help too if you needed me," Frances says.

"How are you on nav system diagnostics?" she asks.

"Not as good as Chris, but he taught me," Frances answers promptly.

"You mind running them for me?" Lindsey asks. "I'll go see if I can get Gerard to calm down." 

Frances nods. Lindsey squeezes her shoulder and climbs down onto the deck. She finds Gerard halfway between the mess and the med bay, cup of coffee in one hand, and muttering over a data pad.

"Gee, sweetheart, you've got a little -" she gestures at his insane hair.

He grimaces. "I'm trying to make sure we're stocked well enough for anything that could happen."

"Is this - what do you call it, transference?" Lindsey asks.

"Possibly," Gerard replies, refusing to meet Lindsey's eyes.

"Gee," she repeats, taking the tablet and lacing their fingers together.

"I just. I don't want to tell you not to go or any bullshit like that, but I, um, can't say I'm not really fucking worried about everyone, especially you," Gerard says.

"It's okay to be worried. Just don't -"

"Hover? Be a dick? Trying not to," he replies.

"No, I mean. Don't worry so much you can't do your job."

He nods and squares his shoulders. "That's why I'm trying to get it all out now. And also double check all the supplies in the medbay."

"Want help?" Lindsey asks. "I have some time."

"I…sure," Gerard replies. Lindsey takes his hand and they walk the rest of the way to the medbay. She really doesn't have that much time to spare, but this is important.

When they get to the medbay, she hops up on the bed that used to be hers and watches Gerard move around the room. He seems to be holding it together just fine. After a few minutes though, he stops and takes a deep breath. 

"C'mere," she murmurs. Gerard puts down the box he's sorting through and comes over, stepping between her knees. She grabs his hips. "We're prepared, Gee. And good at this. I won't promise anything, but I'd hazard a guess we'll be just fine."

Gerard nods, then leans in for a kiss. Lindsey kisses back. She starts slow and sweet, then slides her tongue into his mouth. She pulls him in with her legs and puts her hands in his hair. He sinks into her arms and presses his tongue against hers.

Lindsey kisses back, running her hands over his back and shoulders. He steps closer and she wraps her legs around him. She hopes the medbay door is locked.

He runs the back of his knuckles down her throat. She gasps and tightens her legs around him. She can feel him getting hard against her. "Lin," he whispers, reaching between them, thumb pressing up against her clit through her trousers.

She moans. "Let's. I need."

"Yeah," Gerard agrees and immediately goes for her shirt. He kisses her chest as he slips the buttons, tonguing the edge of her bra. She hums happily and slides her fingers into his hair.  
Gerard's hands are strong and teasing. He thumbs her nipples over the cloth. She moans. Each moment he isn't taking off her bra feels like an eternity. Each moment he's touching her is an eternity too, the good kind.

He finally reaches around her back, unsnaps her bra, and pulls the straps down her arms. She runs his hair through her fingers as he lowers his mouth to her chest. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and she moans as he slides his tongue around it. Lindsey is so sensitive, and he's teasing just enough.

She slides her hands down his back and under the waistband of his pants. He mumbles something against her breast and she squeezes. She moves her hands around to his front and unbuttons his pants. "Get up on this bunk," she murmurs, pushing the fabric down.

He kicks off his shoes and gets rid of his pants, then pushes her down and gets to work on her pants. Lindsey tries to help, but he's distracting with tiny kisses and nips all over her skin.

He gets her pants and shoes off and as he leans toward her, she catches a handful of his shirt. "Off." Gerard sighs and obeys, stripping it over his head and tossing it. She admires the ripple of his torso. Finally, she tugs him up on top of her. He leans in, lips catching hers lightly. "Fuck me now, please," she says with a smile.

"Yeah," he murmurs and shifts into position. She reaches between them and guides him inside. They both sigh. Gerard whispers her name. She wraps her legs around his thighs. Fuck, he feels good. In her, against her, everywhere.

"It will be fine," she murmurs against his lips. "Because we're going to do this a million more times. It would be impossible to think we wouldn't."

"Yeah," he breathes against her lips and kisses down her throat. He starts moving, just slow enough to never make her lose her breath completely as he kisses her collarbones and back up to her lips. She clutches his shoulders and clenches around him, just to feel him moan against her chest.

He presses their cheeks together and thrusts harder. Everything fades away. All there is is Gerard. His cock, his lips. His voice murmuring her name, how much he loves - "Gee?" she breathes.

"It's. I know. I just do," Gerard whispers. "I know it's only been a few weeks, but I just. I know."

"Knowing's all that matters," Lindsey whispers back. She leans closer and breathes the words back into his ear. He sighs and presses his face against her neck.

He keeps moving, thrusts speeding up. Lindsey reaches between them to touch herself. She's so fucking wet and he feels so good, her fingers slide over her clit nice and smooth. Gerard sucks on the side of her neck. He's sending her off with a giant hickey, and she fucking loves it.

He gives her several sharp, short thrusts that make her gasp before going back to a smoother pace. She pulls him closer, whispers his name. He moans. His shoulders are starting to tremble. She moves her fingers faster on her clit. She can feel her own thighs starting to tremble, too.

"Gee," she moans and thrusts back against him. He spreads a hand out over her lower back, no more thrusts, rocking their hips together over and over. He's as deep as she can get him and it's perfect. She clenches round him again and again. He presses their lips together, bucks his hips, and comes. It only takes a few more strokes of her fingers and she comes too, legs and arms tightening around him. He's heavy on top of her and she loves it.

"Love, love, love," he pants into her neck.

"I love you," she whispers back.

He nods and slides his lips up to her mouth. She breathes him in and resists looking at a chrono. He kisses her softly and slides his hands up into her hair. "You -" he murmurs. "So amazing."

"So are you," she whispers. "So amazing."

"You have to go now, don't you?" Gerard asks.

"I should," she murmurs. "I left Frances doing my nav system checks."

"She's a baby genius," Gerard says. "But I suppose I've stolen you for long enough." He twists a finger in her hair.

"It was good," she says. "I think we both needed to get out of our heads." Gerard smirks and she smacks his shoulder. "Don't turn that dirty."

He leans in and kisses her soundly before he pulls back, takes a deep breath, and pulls out. Lindsey makes a soft noise and automatically clasps his shoulders. He leans back down and kisses her. "I'll let you get to work."

"I'll look forward to giving you some free time later," she tells him calmly.

He smiles and kisses her again. "Wanna eat you out next time."

"I'll accept that IOU." Lindsey pushes the hair out of Gerard's face. "Guess I ought to get dressed before I go back to the shuttle."

He laughs. "I mean, this ship has a pretty liberal uniform policy, but walking around naked would he frowned on." He gets up and offers her a hand, and they dress together.

They kiss one last time before they make their way out of the medbay. Lindsey does feel better and more centered now. This wasn't just for Gerard.

Frank and Brian are both in the shuttle when they get back, wearing knowing expressions. She makes a face at Frank. "As if you weren't up in the captain's quarters doing the exact same thing."

"Everyone on this ship is having excessive amounts of sex," Brian says dryly.

"I bet you could be," Lindsey says. "You and Becky seem pretty chummy."

Brian rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah, I...no, dude, she's. Out of my league."

"I kinda doubt that, man," Frank says. "Especially since she's spending a lot of fucking time with you."

"So are you," Brian snarks, but Lindsey can see him blushing.

"Something in the water," she murmurs.

"All right. We good to go? How are things looking?" Brian asks.

"We've been good to go since yesterday," Frank says.

"We're waiting for Chris and Jon," Lindsey points out. "Any concerns?"

"Nope," Frank says.

"Only that we'll spend so much time talking we won't get to the mission," Brian says.

Lindsey rolls her eyes and sits back. This cruiser isn't too different from her little Kraken, but she'll have to pay close attention to how it handles.

Gerard leans in and kisses her gently. "I'll go back up to the bridge now. And I refuse to tell you to break a leg."

She squeezes his hand and focuses on the instruments in front of her. She won't watch him leave. There is work to do.

They finish final preparations and she radios Grant for permission to depart.

"All systems go, Calliope. Good luck," he adds.

"Thank you, Mercury. See you on the other side," Lindsey replies and the hangar bay doors open. She maneuvers them out, watching her displays for the Seraph following them and engaging shields. They'll rely on Chris's announced approach to disguise their stealthy docking in the distant corner of the junk station.

She flips over to the comm channel Chris and Jon are on to listen in on their progress. They're talking with the junkers over an open comm, arranging a meeting. Frank keeps an eye on the screens and calls out headings to Lindsey to maneuver around the station while Brian swears softly under his breath and monitors their shield levels. So far, she's pretty sure they haven't been spotted. The junkers' sensors are close to non-existent.

"Frank," she murmurs, "I see her." The Kraken hangs, blackened slightly, off the port side, slightly obscured by a larger transport that has an unmistakeable gaping hole in the side. "Time to suit up."

They put on their helmets and double check their seals. Lindsey is fucking itching to see her ship one last time. And to retrieve the chip. Brian takes over the controls and finishes docking the shuttle with the Kraken. They'll have to manually disengage the cargo bay doors from the outside. She's pretty sure there won't be any artificial gravity anywhere once they get out of the cruiser. The mag boots will hold, but it's fucking weird.

She leads the way to the shuttle's hatch, Frank clomping along behind her. "Fucking hate fucking mag boots," he mutters. Lindsey just laughs. She's heard that before.

She watches out the windows and waits until she hears the grinding crunch of the docking clamps, then keys open the hatch. She looks back at Frank, who waves her through first. She steps out and suddenly the only thing holding her down is the boots.

She pops open the control panel next to the doors and starts fiddling with the wires. She's wired backup switches into nearly everything on this ship, but she won't allow herself to be sad. She gets the doors open, switches on her helmet light, and walks onto her ship. Everything is thrashed. She curls her lip in disgust. Fucking vultures.

"Where are we going, Lin?" Frank asks through her earpiece.

"My quarters," she replies. "It's hidden in a panel under my bunk."

"Ok, lead the way. I'll cover your six."

She nods and pulls out her gun. She doesn't think they'll encounter anyone, but just to be safe. "Brian, everything good out there?" she asks.

"Golden. Chris and Jon are working hard. Nobody has picked up on any other presence," Brian replies.

"Let's pick up the pace," Frank suggests tightly.

"Yeah," she replies. The other shoe is sure to drop and she wants that chip in her possession.

Funny how small Kraken feels after Mercury. It doesn't take long at all to get there. Less to breathe a word of relief that the all-important panel looks undisturbed. She pushes the tiny switch and it pops open. The package slides out onto the ground and she picks it up. "All this shit for something so fucking tiny," she murmurs and puts it in the pack strapped to her thigh.

"Don't really know why you didn't wear it all this time," Frank mutters.

"It's sensitive to decontamination beams and if you recall, we were going in and out of a lot of places that required those to board for a while," Lindsey explains. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

"Agreed." He leads the way this time, and Lindsey grits her teeth and tries not to look around too much. There's nothing here. Not even scraps of personal belongings.

They move back out and are getting on the cruiser when Brian says, "Shit, idiots finally spotted us."

"Get us clear," Lindsey barks, shedding suit pieces on her way to the cockpit. The cruiser starts moving away from the Kraken.

"Priming weapons, but these guns aren't exactly going to win any fights," Brian says as Lindsey steps into the cockpit. Brian moves to the co-pilot seat and Lindsey slides into the pilot seat.

"I bet I can give them some more oomph," Frank offers.

"Do it fast," Brian suggests and opens a secure channel. "Mercury, what's the status on the Seraph?"

"They're on their way back to us," Gerard replies. "But I don't know that they'll make it all the way back without assistance. Vince is swinging us around to make a run on their last coordinates, but we could use cover."

"We'll take care of you, Mercury," Lindsey says and disconnects. "Frank, how's it going?"  
"I'll have the boost done by the time you get us to Seraph," he says.

"I can always count on you, Frankie," she says and speeds the ship toward the coordinates Mercury sent. "Hey there, kids," she hails when they're within intercept range of the Seraph. "Looks like you found all the fun."

"Yeah, apparently one of them finally looked out a fucking window and spotted you guys. We left as fast as we could," Jon replies.

"Good deal. We're almost there," she assures him, even though he can undoubtedly already see that. She pulls between them and the approaching enemy cruiser.

"Boost ready," Frank informs her.

"Ping 'em, and start charging the main battery. I'd rather not shoot unless I have to."

Brian nods. "Cruiser, this is Calliope. Stand down or we will defend ourselves with deadly force."

"No way in hell. All this show, must be something important you were coming for. We're gonna get it," comes the reply.

"You bet your ass you're gonna get it," Frank grumbles and starts flipping switches, then aims the main battery.

It's Frank, so she's not even a little bit surprised when he gets off a perfect shot on the first try. He cackles, and Brian tells him, "Direct hit to the sensor array." She knows Frank is smirking when he takes another shot. "And you took out their shields."

Their answering shots sizzle harmlessly off their own shields. Frank giggles. "Nice flying, Lyn." He takes another shot.

Lindsey watches it hit, then opens the channel again. "You have five seconds to stand down, or my friend here is going to take out your fucking life support systems," she says.

Frank, helpfully, starts counting down. They fire off a shot then that actually does some damage. Frank doesn't wait for one to fire back.

"Life support down," Brian reports. They're close enough to the station that their fucking junker friends can come scoop them up, but it's principle.

"Calliope, we have Seraph. Get your asses back over here," Gerard says over the comm. 

Lindsey doesn't waste any time. She pulls into the hangar bay and they wait while the bay refills with air. The three of them... well, Lindsey feels pretty wide-eyed and the others look much the same. It's been a while since she and Frank were in a firefight in a small vessel and Brian's previous ship wasn't exactly small. In fact, the last time was when they lost the Kraken. They hadn't been prepared. Grant is in the business of being prepared.

Lindsey takes a deep breath and they all make their way up to the bridge. Except for those manning the engine room, basically everyone is up there. A cheer goes up when they come in the room.

Grant is leaning over Vince's shoulder as Vince navigates them out of the vicinity. He looks up at Lindsey. "Well done. Did you find what you were looking for?"

She nods. "Wasn't even touched. Thank the stars."

"Indeed," he agrees. "Next stop, our rendezvous with the Alliance."

She nods. "Sounds good, boss." Finally, she lets herself look over at Gerard who beams at her. He looks a little limp, though. As if he'd been holding himself stiff the entire time she was gone. Lindsey strolls in his direction and drapes her arms over his shoulders. "Hello, sweetheart," she whispers.

"Hi," he breathes. "You guys were amazing. I was totally fucking terrified, but you were amazing."

"Course we were," she says soothingly. "We're professionals."

He laughs. "For certain definitions of professional."

Lindsey smiles and kisses his cheek. "Well, we'll find out how much when we get to the rendezvous."

 

\--

 

By the end of the day, Gerard is fucking exhausted. He spent a lot of the day filled with tension and he sort of wants to collapse as soon as they all finish dinner. He wants to do it with Lindsey. Luckily, Grant has the ship powered down and running on a light crew for the night, probably because he knows they're all exhausted.

After they're done eating and Gerard incinerates their trash, they go straight to Gerard's bunk in the med bay. Lindsey's not talking much. She seems equally pleased and maybe a little sad about the mission. When they get the door to the med bay shut and locked except for emergencies, he pulls her into the small side room and onto the bunk. "You okay, babe?"

"I could use some medical attention," she murmurs.

He smiles. "I can see to you. Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere," she answers.

He slides his hands up her sides, the back of his fingers trailing over her breasts. "Let me just see."

"Look all you want." She tugs her sweater off.

He takes a breath. She's so fucking gorgeous. He slides his hands over her torso, her shoulders, her stomach. "I think I'll start my inspection here." 

He lifts her fingers to his lips and nibbles. He hears her breath hitch and smiles internally. He kisses around to her palm and up to her wrist where he sucks lightly on her pulse point.

"Everything seems functional here," he says when he reaches her elbow.

"Good to know," she murmurs breathlessly. He slides his tongue over the soft skin of her inner arm. From there it's easy to turn his face and lick up the side of her breast instead. She gasps and reaches behind herself to take off her bra. He licks again when he sees bare skin.

"Mmm," she murmurs, putting a hand in his hair.

Gerard isn't quite satisfied with that, so he licks farther down her side. She stretches her arm up, draping it lazily over her head. She looks like a goddess in a painting.

"Still looking," he tells her stomach. She lies back, lounging against a pillow. Gerard traces over the tattoo on her belly and reaches for the button of her trousers. "Feeling any better yet?" he asks.

"Hmm. Better keep checking," she whispers. He draws her trousers and panties down her legs with one tug. He wraps his hands around her feet and draws his thumbs firmly down the center of the soles. 

She murmurs appreciatively. "Sometime, I'm gonna make you keep doing that for an extended period of time."

"No time like the present," he murmurs. He brings his other hand over to her right foot and starts rubbing with both of his thumbs.

"Mmm. Didn't realize my feet were sore until just now."

"Hence the medical check," he chuckles.

She lifts an amused brow at him and lets her head fall back. Her legs are slightly spread and he enjoys the view while he works, switching to her other foot after a few minutes. He smiles when he gets the first moan.

When her toes start curling, he moves up her legs, massaging her calves, kissing her knees. "I think you're malingering," he tells her thigh.

"Make me better," she tells him. "Please, Gerard."

"I'm a trained professional," he whispers, and starts to lick. She moans and shoves her fingers into his hair. He keeps licking, slow and steady. He loves her taste, traces of soap, perspiration, the musky tang of her cunt. He uses his fingers to spread her lips apart and slides his tongue into her. She gasps and her fingers clench. "Talk to me," Gerard tells her.

"Fuck, Gerard," she murmurs. "Your tongue. So good. You're so fucking good."

Yes, Gerard thinks and slides his fingers up to her clit. He rubs in slow circles while he fucks her with his tongue. Lindsey never takes her fingers out of his hair, stroking and twisting it, tugging, smoothing. He loves it. Loves that he can feel her responses in the way her fingers move in his hair.

He could do this all night. He'll at least do it for as long as she'll let him. He switches his mouth back to her clit and slides two fingers into her. Lindsey starts moving her hips as soon as they're inside her. He licks delicately at her clit until she whines and then starts sucking as he fucks her with his fingers.

He goes hard, as deep as he can, twisting his fingers and flicking with his tongue. She moans loud and bucks up against his fingers, his mouth. Her fingers are tight in his hair and aren't letting up. He can feel his cheeks getting wet and he moans back. He sucks her clit and fucks into her a few more times and she lets out a sound that's half moan, half scream and arches up.

Gerard moves with her, waiting until she stops bucking to lean his forehead against her thigh and pull his fingers out. She loosens her fingers and starts stroking his hair as she pants. "Come up here," she says.

Gerard slides up her body, kissing her belly, her chest, her neck. "All better?" he asks.

"Almost," she murmurs. "How about you? Need some of that tension relieved?"

"Not going to refuse," Gerard tells her, sliding her hair through his fingers.

She reaches around him to rub his shoulders and slides one hand up the back of his neck and rubs there. He bows his head forward to give her more skin to work with. It feels amazing. He really was pretty tense all day. The only time he relaxed was when they were fucking earlier. He's in the safest place he can imagine, now. With her.

He closes his eyes as her hands stroke lower. She pulls at the fabric of his shirt and he lifts up just enough for her to pull it off and stroke her hands over his bare skin. He knows he's pale and uninteresting compared to her and all her ink, but she takes her time about it.

As she touches him, he starts working on his pants. When he gets the button and zip undone, he shoves them and his underwear down his thighs.

"More tension?" she murmurs, sliding her fingers down his stomach.

"Yeah," he murmurs. "You gonna take care of it for me?"

"You bet." She teases the tender skin of his hips with her fingers. Her cunt is right there and he knows exactly how hot and slick she is, but he waits for her to tell him what she wants him to do. She's taking her time. Taking forever. She finally smiles and tugs him against her.

"Please," he gasps.

"I want you, sweetheart," she tells him.

He shifts and slides inside her with a loud moan. She moans too, softer and longer. It's so good. So good. "Lin," he moans in her ear.

She shifts and wraps her arms around him tighter. He forces himself to be slow, to keep his hips steady. It's mostly to keep himself in check, because he is primed.

She thrusts back against him. "Fuck," he gasps. So good. He can't breathe except in time with Lindsey. They keep moving, rocking into each other. He buries his face in her neck. This is what he needed. He thinks it's what she needed too.

She kisses his neck and up to his cheek. "So good, Gee." Gerard just nods. "Time to come," she tells him.

He moans in her ear and starts coming. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants as he thrusts.

Lindsey holds tight as he shudders through it. When his hips finally stop moving, he rubs his cheek against Lindsey's shoulder and lifts his face to look at her.

"You're so beautiful," he tells her. "So brave. And smart. And -"

She cuts him off with a laugh. "I know, Gee," she says and kisses him quick. "You're pretty beautiful yourself."

"I just want you to know that I - I can't, it's not just about that," Gerard says.

"I know that too," Lindsey murmurs. "You're important to me as well." Gerard can tell she's trying not to laugh at him, a little. She kisses him instead. Fuck, he loves her. He kisses her back, slow and soft.

"Computer," he murmurs once they settle into bed, "set an alarm for us."

"For what time?" the voice answers back.

"My regular morning wake up time," Gerard replies. Lindsey hums into agreement and tucks her face against his shoulder. He puts a hand in her hair and closes his eyes. He wants to stay here forever.

Late the next day, they meet up with the Alliance fleet. Lindsey and Brian report to their superiors with their pieces of equipment. Gerard wants to tag along, but he needs to meet with a medical supplier, so he makes arrangements to find them afterwards.

He orders supplies and attempts to talk the woman into some of the more advanced requisitions for Mercury, but she holds firm. "Delta Class ships only get what's on my list, Mr. Way. You know this. Unless the Mercury has magically become a larger ship, you get what you get."

"Connie, you're such a hardass," Gerard grumbles.

"And my department is the most organized and efficient. Deal with it, Way," she retorts.

He sighs heavily, then grins at her. "Glad we had this talk, Connie."

"Likewise, Gerard. I'm sure we'll have it again the next time I see you," she replies.

"I never learn," he agrees cheerfully.

She shoos him away and he goes with a laugh. He makes his way toward where he arranged to meet up with Lindsey and Brian. Just as he reaches where they're sitting on a half-wall outside the tech bay, a tall brunette rushes up. 

"Lindsey! I thought it was you!"

"Alicia!" Lindsey says and stands up to greet the woman. She lifts Lindsey and spins her in a circle, hugging her tight. Lindsey hugs back and laughs. "You weren't worried, were you?" she asks.

"Maybe a little. But you're like a bad penny, Ballato. You always turn up again," Alicia replies. "Sorry to hear about your ship, but you know my captain would do just about anything to get you into our wing."

Lindsey meets Gerard's eyes and looks and back to Alicia. "You know, I need to talk to someone, but I'm pretty sure I'm gonna stay with the Mercury."

Alicia makes a face. "Morrison has more than his fair share of the best people."

"Yeah, well," Lindsey says with a soft smile at Gerard.

"Ohhhh, it's like that, is it?" Alicia asks with a grin.

"Maybe," Lindsey smiles. 

Brian snickers. Alicia looks at him. "You too, Schechter?"

"Well. Grant asked me to stay, so."

Alicia fakes a heavy sigh. "So. Who's this?"

"Gerard Way," Gerard says and holds out his hand to shake hers.

"Of course. I've heard of you. You used to have different...hair?" she guesses.

He laughs and runs his hand through his hair. "Yeah, it was white and short for a while."

"Sexy," Lindsey comments. "Alicia, we've got to get to the muster in the main command center."

"Me too," Alicia says. "I just was so excited to see you. If you change your mind..." She waves a hand dismissively. "Well. Anyway."

Lindsey gives Alicia another hug. "It was really good to see you, Alicia," she says.

"Nice to meet you," Gerard says when they pull apart.

"Later, Simmons," Brian adds. Alicia darts off as fast as she came, and the three of them follow, slower.

Lindsey reaches over to take Gerard's hand. "I mean. I'm assuming you want me to stay. I definitely want to stay."

Gerard smiles at her, but he still wonders. The Mercury is so different from having her own ship. He supposes he can ask her about it later. Right now, they have a big-ass--probably stupid--meeting to go to. He's lucky Grant lets him skip as many of these as he does. At least he can sit back and snark about it with Brian. He missed being able to do that.

People keep coming up to Lindsey. So many people know her. He's missed a lot since he's been out on assignment with Grant for so long. Not that he regrets it, none of them do. But wow.

He spots Grant and the rest of them and heads in that direction. Grant is not so surreptitiously holding Frank's hand. Gerard smiles. He's so fucking happy for Grant he might burst. He hasn't seen Grant with that kind of underlying quiet calm in years. Maybe ever. "They're really great together," Gerard murmurs to Lindsey.

She nods. "I've never seen Frank this happy. Not even when I told him he could do whatever the fuck he wanted with the Kraken's weapons."

Gerard chuckles. "He's such a good fit with Becky and Jon."

She grins and nods. "He's a good fit with the whole group. We both are."

"Agreed," Gerard says, and tucks her hand in his elbow. She smiles broadly at him. He sighs happily and they join the group.

 

\--

 

Frank has never been to one of these fleet-wide meetings before. It's oddly nerve-wracking. Especially now that he's on the Mercury, which is a big fucking deal of a ship. He'd almost forgotten that little fact in their recent travels. But it's there in the way everyone looks at Grant and the rest of the crew.

It makes Frank square his shoulders and hold his head high. He's got to be worthy of those looks.

Security here is high, too. He's not sure if that makes him tenser or more relieved. He supposes the security makes him more personally nervous, but feel more secure about their whole group. Frank just doesn't take well to authority. Which is funny, because he's dating the captain of a major Alliance ship. He chuckles to himself.

"What're you laughing at?" Gerard asks beside him.

"My life is weird, that's all," Frank says. "Should we be nervous about this meeting?"

"Nah. They'll just give us our marching orders and update us on the array now that we've got all the pieces into them," Gerard replies. Frank nods. That doesn't sound so bad. "And if we're really lucky, there won't be a herd of brass all giving speeches," Gerard adds.

"Maybe it'll be Grant, he's entertaining."

Gerard laughs. "They learned that lesson a while ago. He's too unpredictable for their tastes."

Frank smirks. That's his Grant. "Then we'll be bored as hell," he says resignedly.

"We'll be back on the ship soon enough," Gerard tells him.

"Thank god. This much open space makes me feel twitchy," Frank says and winks.

"It's not even that big. The Core has bigger space stations. But I know what you mean," Gerard replies.

"Mercury is home?" Frank guesses.

"Yeah," Gerard says. "It really is. How about you? It feel like home yet?"

"It really does," Frank tells him, watching Grant talk to a group of people he assumes are other captains.

"Good," Gerard says. Frank turns his head to grin at him. If the Mercury is home, Gerard is a brother of sorts. Frank likes that.

Lindsey and Becky come in and slip into seats behind Frank and Gerard. Frank isn't at all surprised when he sees Brian come in and go up the aisle behind them to slip into the chair next to Becky. Gerard catches his eye and gives him a matching smirk. He's pretty sure they won't even be able to take bets on when they'll get together because they'd have to take it down to the hour.

Their crew filters in one by one. Frank catches Grant's eye and Grant gives him a wide smile. He's up with the other brass and will stay there for the entire thing. Frank's glad he can see Grant at any rate. He pretty much looks good enough to eat.

The Alliance is mostly just that - an alliance of private pilots with a sprinkling of Fringe militia - and doesn't have uniforms, but they are all in their best clothes right now. Grant's best is something else. Okay, that's a lie. Grant's best is stark naked. In Frank's opinion. His second best is making Frank want to strip him to his best as soon as fucking possible.

He pretends to be attentive and counts the minutes. Lindsey tweaks his ear once. He comes perilously close to making a disruptive noise. "Not funny," he hisses back at her.

She smirks at him and gestures for him to look forward. "Pay attention like a good boy."

He rolls his eyes. Gerard's been drawing on his datapad for ten minutes. Two of the captains are hashing out some sort of territorial redistricting. Frank really wishes he'd thought to bring in a datapad himself. He could be reading right now. Lindsey and Brian are paying enough attention for all of them. Frank sighs and tries not to squirm too much.

The commander gets the room's attention when he describes Core troop movements nearing their sector. The Mercury is headed for a more active sector. Frank is both nervous and kind of excited. They'll also be working in tandem with a few other ships this time. That will be interesting. The Mercury generally has a reputation for being a bit of a lone wolf ship. Mostly deserved. Grant doesn't always like to play nice. He has very particular ideas about how things should be done, particularly when it comes to keeping his crew safe, and those are often in contrast with what other ship captains want to do.

When the meeting breaks up, Gerard immediately turns to start talking to the others. Frank watches Grant. He is, Frank realizes, slowly making his way through the room toward them. Frank bites his lip. He'd gotten himself distracted from his earlier staring, but now he's at it again.

Lindsey pokes him in the shoulder. "Wipe the drool off your chin, Iero," she teases.

"Nah," he says. "Grant will appreciate it."

"Ugh," Brian mutters. Frank doesn't have to look at him to know he's rolling his eyes.

"Dude," Frank says. Brian has no room to judge.

"Fuck off, Iero," Brian says.

Frank just laughs. Then Grant's in front of him and Frank smiles. "Hi."

"Hi yourself," Grant replies and steps as close to him as propriety will allow.

"That sucked," Frank tells him, because, well, it did. "When do we have to ship out?"

"Tomorrow morning," Grant replies with a small frown. "I'd have liked to give everyone a bit more shore leave, but apparently that's not in the cards this time."

"I don't need shore leave," Frank tells him.

"Say that too loud and half the crew will start throwing things at you," Grant laughs.

"Let 'em all go, we won't have to be as quiet," Frank rephrases gleefully.

The others groan. "I think we're duty-bound to stay, now," Becky says.

"Way ahead of you." Brian offers her his arm; she laughs, grabs his hand, and tows him away.

"Well," Grant says. "We didn't even get a chance to place bets."

Frank giggles. "I thought the same."

"I owe Linds ten credits. And we're meeting up with some friends, so bye," Gerard replies with a grin.

"Well," Grant says a gain. "We are suddenly alone. Whatever shall we do with the free time?"

"I have been thinking about you naked for hours," Frank says matter-of-factly.

Grant smiles. "Have you, now?"

"I have, in fact. Does that interest you?"

"I am very interested, actually. Perhaps we should adjourn to somewhere less…public," Grant replies.

"Captain's quarters?" Frank suggests.

"I think it's safe to say they're our quarters now," Grant says as they walk.

"Sounds fancier my way," Frank laughs.

"Sounds happier mine," Grant says.

Frank squeezes his hand. "Yeah, it makes me pretty fucking happy."

"Glad to hear it," Grant says. "Even after today? Long, boring meetings are a sad reality of my position."

"I can deal with them," Frank replies. "And next time I know to bring a book."

"One of these days they'll learn action is more important than posturing. Until then, I'll play along," Grant tells him.

Frank smiles. "And hey, we've got shit to do now."

"Is that what you're calling fucking now? Oh, how the magic dies," Grant teases.

Frank fakes punching him in the arm. "I was talking about our orders."

"Why? I'd rather talk about fucking," Grant says.

Frank laughs. "Fine, let's go back to our quarters and talk about fucking. Or, you know. Actually fuck."

They're almost back at the Mercury. Grant is walking rather quickly, half because he keeps getting hailed if he goes any slower. It was cute the first couple times. After that, Frank starts having trouble keeping his scowl off his face. Grant holds his hand the entire time, though. Frank lets Grant know how impatient he's getting by squeezing Grant's hand.

Chris is sitting on the Mercury's docking bay ramp when they get back. He smirks at them. "Only the two of you would rush back to the ship when off duty."

"Go on, clear out of here," Grant tells him.

Chris throws Grant a mock salute. "Whatever you say, boss."

As soon as they clear the main doors, Grant has him up against the bulkhead. Frank clings gratefully, though their chances of actually being alone on the ship are still not zero. It's nice to just kiss him for a few minutes.

Grant pulls back and tugs him to the lift. Frank snugs up close behind him and kisses the back of his neck. Grant puts his hands over Frank's and hums his appreciation. When the lift opens to the proper deck, they swiftly make their way towards their quarters. The door swishes open soundlessly for them. 

Frank moans as Grant's hands tighten on his hips immediately. "Jesus fuck, I couldn't stop looking at you in this fucking outfit. And then I thought about how much I wanted you naked," Frank tells him.

"Happy to make that happen for you," Grant murmurs, stripping off his upper layers fast. Frank eyes him appreciatively as he unbuttons his own pants and pulls off his shirt.

The more clothing they both lose, the more they change into their true selves. Frank, compact, covered in ink. Grant, sinewy and predatory. "Fuckin' love you," Frank murmurs and steps into Grant's space once they both finally have their pants and boots and socks off.

Grant breathes his name and wraps his arms around Frank's shoulders. He sinks his fingers into Frank's hair and pulls their mouths together. Frank moans and closes his eyes. They kiss and kiss until Grant tugs him toward the bed and pulls him into his lap.

Frank presses their chests together and kisses up the length of Grant's neck. Grant's hands slide up and down Frank's back and then rest on his ass, pulling him even closer.

"I wanted to drag you off into a dark corner," Frank murmurs.

Grant moans. "I wanted that too. I kept looking at you and wanting so many things."

Grant squeezes Frank in his arms and Frank goes on, "All those people wanting a piece of you and I kept thinking about how I'd get this."

"You get it all," Grant says helplessly.

Frank kisses him hard. "Same here. I'm yours." He moves his hips experimentally, sucking in a breath as their cocks rub together. "Feel so fucking good," Frank moans against his lips. "You need to fuck me. Hard," he growls quietly.

"I can do that," Grant replies, his fingers biting into Frank's hips. Frank bares his teeth in a smile and nips at the side of Grant's throat.

Grant moans, pulls him down onto the bed, and rolls on top of him. He's not trying to be particularly gentle either. Frank laughs throatily and wraps his legs around Grant's waist, kissing him hard. Grant sucks Frank's earlobe into his mouth and reaches up to twist one of Frank's nipples between his thumb and forefinger. They're both breathing hard, and Frank can't stay still. Even just rubbing up against Grant is making his head spin.

Grant pulls away, reaches for the lube, and moves back onto his knees. Frank watches him as he slicks his fingers, panting a little. Grant pushes his thighs wide and reaches down to give Frank two fingers right away. Frank arches his back and pushes into it greedily. Grant thrusts his fingers hard and fast and Frank moans loud. "You're so gorgeous," Grant tells him, gravelly, out of breath.

"So are you," Frank breathes, reaching for Grant's free hand. He brings it up to his cheek and lets his eyes slip closed. "More," he murmurs.

Grant leans forward to kiss him and removes his fingers. Frank gasps, but he knows what's coming next. "Do you want it like this?" Grant whispers in his ear.

"Yes," he moans. Grant lines up and slowly, slowly pushes in. He snaps his hips hard at the very end and Frank moans again.

Grant sits back and tugs Frank's hips even further against him. His hand slides up Frank's thigh and over his belly. Frank gets a double handful of the sheets and holds on. Grant drives into him hard and fast. It's everything Frank wanted. He murmurs filthy things between thrusts, caresses Frank's belly and thighs and cock. Frank gasps out curses and words of love by turns. He can hardly breathe. He doesn't care. He doesn't want anything but Grant.

Grant starts thrusting harder, faster, moaning with his head thrown back. Frank gasps his name. Grant's hand flexes on Frank's hip and he slides his thumb over the head of Frank's cock. He starts jacking Frank harder, in time with his thrusts, cheeks flushed red and eyes glittering. He's so fucking beautiful.

Frank wraps his fingers around Grant's on his cock. He hisses out a groan between his teeth, back arching within two or three strokes. He can feel the orgasm hit and spread like an electric shock. Grant moans and thrusts one more time before Frank feels him come too. His fingers slip off of Frank's hip, and he holds very still and breathes deep. Frank reaches out to touch his stomach. Grant puts his hand over Frank's. "Love you," Grant murmurs.

"Come down here," Frank begs.

Grant pulls out and lies down next to Frank. Frank wraps his arms tight around Grant's shoulders and presses their lips together. Grant clings back, arms tight around Frank.

"Love you so much," Frank tells him.

"So much," Grant echoes and tips their foreheads together. They're a mess of spit and sweat and come, and Frank could fucking care less.

They hold each other and breathe for a long time. "We should do that again," Frank says, and Grant laughs.

"As often as we can," he promises.

Frank leans up to kiss him. He means for it to be playful, but it quickly turns soft and sweet. He can't help it. It's just how he feels about Grant. He's the biggest sap in the world and he's okay with that.

The Mercury is underway the next morning, sister ships Romulus and Anansi in formation. Apparently the captains of both ships are people Grant likes and has worked with before. Frank can already tell all the crews are going to get absolutely hammered together once they complete their mission.

Grant just called an all-hands to the bridge and people are still trickling in. Frank is sitting at the weapons control board with Becky and Jon. Gerard is at the comm station and Lindsey is standing beside the captain's chair talking to Vince.

Frances and Chris come in together, Frances still wearing her coveralls. Brian comes in half a second later looking frazzled, though Frank is pretty sure that's his default look. He flops down next to Gerard at the comm console. He's immediately looking around for Becky, though. Frank snickers and she pokes him.

"I have been so nice about you and Grant," she pouts.

Frank pouts back. "That's not fair, Cloonan."

"Totally fair," she replies and sticks out her tongue at him.

He sighs. Lindsey catches his eye and winks. "You all suck," he mutters. Becky just laughs at him.

Grant clears his throat from the helm. "Now that we're all here..." The chatter dies out and everyone turns to face Grant. "Thank you. As you know, we've been assigned to intercept Core troop movements in an Alliance-controlled sector. We're working hard to assess the threat level, but with Romulus and Anansi flanking us, we can assume we're up to the challenge. Still, I'll need your best, and we'll be on full bridge crew from here on out."

Frank knows that means they'll have little time to themselves, little time with each other. He can live with that.

"I have every confidence that you'll be more than equal to anything we may face," Grant continues. "Vince has your assignments for the next forty-eight hours, so see him. And thank you."

Frank shoots Grant a smile, which is returned with a little nod of Grant's head. Frank waits for Vince to make his rounds before going to Grant.

"I got us on the same watch," Grant says. "I'll still be on call, but it was the best I could do."

Frank smiles and squeezes his hand. "It's better than I even hoped for, babe."

"Iero, Way, Rivera," Vince calls. "You're on duty starting now. Captain Morrison, the bridge is yours."

Lindsey goes to give Gerard a quick kiss before leaving the bridge. Frank settles back into his chair at the weapons console. He checks the readouts, sends a couple of diagnostics over to Jon's console, and watches Grant take the captain's chair. The only thing Frank can think is how he looks so fucking handsome sitting there. He's got it bad.

"Gerard, tell the Romulus and the Anansi that we're ready to head out," Grant orders.

"Opening up comms, Captain," Gerard says and taps for a channel. "Romulus, Anansi, Mercury is on the move."

"Acknowledged, Mercury."

"Ready to go, Mercury."

Grant smiles. "Take us out, Jon."

"Happy to," Jon replies and engages the drive. Frank looks up from his display to watch the stars blur. Months ago, this was the last place he expected to end up. Now there's nowhere in the universe he'd rather be.


End file.
